The Scorching Union
by ImaginedElegance
Summary: Lien is the useless daughter in a family of powerful firebenders. For years, they have kept her imprisoned in her bedroom, claiming to all those who inquired that she was very ill. Her life is forever changed when her parents make a deal with then-Commander Zhao. She is plunged into a whole new world of abuse and political intrigue. Will she learn to be strong or will he break her?
1. Chapter 1

Lien sat at her desk, eyes scanning over the firebending scroll laid out before her. For months, she had studied the illustrations and descriptions. She leaped up from her chair. It fell back with a crash in her haste but she paid it no mind. This time, she would do it.

She strode to her window. The view beyond was obscured by a thick metal plate covered with a serene landscape painting. Long hours had been spent staring out at the carefully inked trees. It had been years since she'd seen anything new in the picture. The hut nestled between the foliage, the stark mountain protruding from the ground as if it had been created by a powerful earthbender. Well, that's how she imagined it. Not that she'd ever seen an earthbender's handiwork before.

Her fingertips pressed against the grainy parchment, closing her eyes. They'd said this was all she needed. The room, the view, the books. Even serving maids to wait on her. A derisive snort nearly interrupted her even breathing. She held it in for her parents' sakes. It was a difficult position to be in, she knew. They'd made a tough choice for the family, but it seemed the only solution. Until she could prove herself.

Moments passed, filled with nothing but calculated breaths. In through the nose, hold, out through the mouth. All the books she'd read made note of this technique. Restraint and patience. Yet it had been years of this – each day the same as the last. Hadn't she been patient enough?

The pads of her fingers felt faintly warm and she almost allowed herself to take a quick peek. Surely that dull painting would soon burn away. She fooled herself before, imagined sparks flying and smoke rising and flames burning bright enough to shine through her eyelids. Her hopes had sunk low within her when she'd opened her eyes to see that there had been no change. It had felt so real…

This time, she would not give in to the temptation. Not until her hand itself caught fire.

A knock on the door disrupted her concentration. She sighed and whirled away from the unmarred image. "Yes?"

"Your mother wishes to speak with you." The guard's voice was deep and monotone. He waited for an answer, though when none came, he unlocked her door. Several bolts slid out of place with near thunderous clangs.

Lien rushed to the doorway. When it swept open, hinges squealing, she slipped past her mother's tall figure and broke out into a run down the hallway. The guard's armored boots pounded the floor with deafening ringing as he sprinted after her. At the end of the corridor, a window gaped. It allowed for a warm, caressing breeze to infiltrate the austere house. She flung the glass pane open further and leaned out the casement. The wind caught her loose hair. It was so freeing but, in a moment, it was over.

The man grabbed her shoulder with a gauntleted hand. He yanked her back forcefully, dragging her down the hall toward her room. She struggled to break his grip but he held with a determination that left bruises. When they reached her bedchamber, he tossed her to the floor within as easily as one would toss out trash. "Lien, you are sick. You must stay in your room."

She stayed where she had fallen, wide eyes focused on her mother. The older woman held the firebending scroll in her manicured hands. She looked down upon the girl and shook her head.

"This nonsense again," she stated.

"It's not nonsense!" Lien rose like a wilted flower after finally receiving water. "Father said if I could just find a way, then–"

"You are not a bender, Lien," her mother said, concealing the scroll in the swooping sleeves of her burgundy evening gown. Her mother had never fancied the fashionable brighter colors. The entire house – as far as Lien had seen – had been decorated to her muted tastes.

The girl felt her face growing hot, though this was no firebending. She wrestled with the unbearable boiling within her. One outburst was enough for the night. Yet she needed answers, needed to understand why she had been locked away while her sisters were permitted to flourish and bloom. Perhaps that was why she could not keep the questions from bubbling over her lips into the stagnant air between them.

"Is that why you say I'm ill? Am I an embarrassment to you?" she asked, glaring into her mother's matching chestnut eyes.

"Your father and I are doing the best we can." Her mother met her gaze unflinchingly. "Do not forget your place in this family. Too delicate for the politicking we do… This prison – as I know you see it that way – is for your own protection. My child, we can't release you to this world until we have guaranteed that you will thrive."

 _For your own benefit, no doubt_. But she dared not speak the words aloud. She turned towards the familiar scenery of the picture, signifying that she was finished with the conversation. The older woman made no other sound. The only indication that she had left was the rattling of the multiple locks back into their usual place.

Only then did Lien let her tears flow. She clasped her hand over her mouth, silencing her sorrow. She wished she could let it all out. Scream, cry, bang on the metal plate barring her window until her hands broke. In a fit, she practiced the moves she remembered from the scroll. But they were choppy and her lungs too distressed. She couldn't produce a spark. It shouldn't have surprised her. The hours upon hours upon hours of discipline she had forced onto herself had yet to yield any results. Why did she keep hoping that she was simply a late bloomer?

She fell to her knees then laid on the plush carpet, curling herself into a ball. The room around her faded into darkness as sleep consumed her.

In the morning, she awoke to the sound of her door opening. She sat upright and clenched the thick strands of burnt orange fabric beneath her. Her back ached, her mind felt fuzzy. But she forced herself to her feet to meet her visitor. Two in less than twelve hours was quite rare those days.

When the door opened, she laid eyes upon her older sister, Jing Fei. The young woman was tall as their mother and slender with not a curve to speak of. Her hair was bound in a tight traditional bun but her style of dress seemed more modern. The sunny yellow fabric hugged her wispy body, putting on display all that she had to offer. It had a high neck but a dramatic slit down her left leg – thigh to ankle.

Jing Fei smiled faintly at the sight of Lien as she glided into the room. "How did you sleep, dear one?"

"Well enough," Lien said. She glanced down at her plain white gown and bare feet. Had she really left the room looking like that? "Sorry. I haven't had the time to change yet. The books you gifted me have held too much of my attention lately."

The smile became a beam like a ray of sun. "I'm so glad you're enjoying them. But yes…" She coughed daintily into her fist. "Mother and Father have news for you."

"Why did she not tell me last night?"

"Well they received an offer they couldn't refuse in the early hours this morning," Jing Fei said, her smile fading. She grasped her younger sister's wrist and led her to the vanity. The mirror reflected the two girls. So different, yet alike in ways that neither could explain. Her sister slumped in the straight-backed chair. She ran her fingers through Lien's long locks. A soothing gesture.

Jing Fei pulled back abruptly, raising her hands to cover her face. Lien could see no tears. But there was a light whimpering. It couldn't be masked. The older girl paled as if she had taken ill and she gasped for air. She dropped her hands, revealing red rimmed eyes.

"Please don't cry…" Lien said. She offered her sister a handkerchief but she declined, preferring to wipe at the tears with a single finger from each hand. When she seemed calmer, Lien dared to ask the question that made her chest feel weighted down with stones. "What will happen to me?"

"They… intend to marry you off." Jing Fei snatched the pristine white cloth from the vanity and clasped it over her mouth.

Lien caught a glimpse of another wave of tears before her older sister turned away. But she couldn't find it within herself to comfort the woman. She could only stare. Her mind was spinning. The room even appeared to whirl with it. Nausea stirred in her stomach. Judging by Jing Fei's reaction, the man to whom she'd been betrothed was a monster. She imagined being locked away in a new prison cell – only this time, visited all too often. Keeping up appearances for this man's reputation.

Was he hideous? Could she touch him without feeling revolted? Everything was swirling within her. Thoughts, emotions, nausea. She held her head in her hands, trying to steady herself. And then she went cold. The things that unsettled her slipped away. She was left numb. She lowered her arms and folded her hands in her lap. It wouldn't matter if he did hold her captive. She was used to this life.

When her sister recovered herself, she returned to Lien's side and leaned down. "But there's some hope, I think," she whispered, glancing toward the door. It was propped open and she could not determine if the guard was paying much attention.

"Please tell me."

"I think he is honorable enough to court you a while before wedding you," she said. "If you can convince him you are unsuitable… No, that's foolish. You must take him. It's you're only way out of this. Let me help you get ready. They've arranged for you to meet tonight."

Jing Fei swept over to the wardrobe and pushed aside the curtain that hid the clothes from sight. She sorted through the gowns in a bit of a frenzy, mumbling to herself. "Nothing. She has nothing to impress him…"

Lien stared straight forward. Her hands shook but she sensed no tears threatening her composure. It seemed almost fitting that her story should end this way. Most would say a wedding is a beginning. But for her parents, it was a way to get rid of her while expanding her family's power. She had to give in, didn't she? Or perhaps not. Too much time had been lost to all the waiting and practicing in vain. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she wasn't a bender. But that didn't mean she had to be the delicate flower they thought she was.

Whoever this man was, she intended to challenge him. Mentally and physically.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed the first chapter! I love hearing from my audience so please don't hesitate to leave a review or PM me.**

"There," Jing Fei said as she put the finishing touches on Lien's makeup. She tucked the little glass jar of shimmery powder into her bag of supplies. "What do you think? Is the gold too much? I just want you to stand out to him. Or maybe I should have used a bolder lip color…"

Lien stared into the mirror, scrutinizing the woman who met her gaze. Was that really her? She had never used makeup before. There was no reason to when she wasn't even allowed to leave her room and her only company was the guard beyond her door. Jing Fei had visited as often as their parents allowed but their younger sister, Fan Li, never checked in. Her heart ached at the thought. But she quickly returned her focus to the makeup. The golden eyeshadow, complimenting her brown eyes. The expert highlight and blush. Her now dramatically long and black eyelashes.

She smiled at herself, appreciating how her lips were slightly more red than usual but not overbearing. It was a little odd to suddenly look so put together. As if those years spent locked away were just a dream and she was the powerful, confident firebender she'd always wanted to be. She was the pride of the family. They'd handpicked a respectable man to be her husband so she would have an equal partner. Certainly not because they no longer wanted to care for her.

"It's perfect," she said, standing and embracing her sister. "Thank you so much."

"You don't need to thank me," Jing Fei said. She finished packing away her makeup supplies. Then she looked over her sister. The younger girl's hair fell over her shoulders in waves, clean and well brushed. Beautiful but not suitable for a formal meeting. "We still need to put up your hair." Lien opened her mouth to object but Jing Fei shushed her. "Just a little bun. The rest can stay as is."

She ushered Lien back into her chair. Lien sat back, watching the mirror as she completed the transformation into a proper Fire Nation noblewoman. A frown tugged at the corners of her rosy lips. But she tried to keep the expression from taking over. Jing Fei had managed to tie up her hair in a flawless bun and she didn't want the older girl to feel as though she had done poorly. The bun atop her head was secured by red ribbon and a metal hair ornament. The rest of her hair was allowed to remain in loose curls that reached down to her mid back.

Lien rose from her chair again. She backed away from the vanity to get a look at her whole outfit. The gown was the color of rubies, accented with black. Its neckline swooped low and the sleeves were wide like the ones on her mother's favored dresses. A black belt pulled in the dress at the waist so that her figure would not be completely masked by the flowing fabrics. Behind her, the skirt trailed across the floor. She swore she almost looked like a bride. The thought sent a shiver up her spine.

"Beautiful," Jing Fei said, grinning. "I'm sure you will take the commander's breath away."

"Yes, I–" She stopped. Commander? Her mind spun. She had expected someone in a lower station. A lieutenant at best or a wealthy merchant's son. But a commander… He was a very powerful man indeed. Her own father had only made it to the rank of captain during his stint in the army.

"Are you alright?" Her sister rested a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," she said, lightly touching Jing Fei's hand. "Just surprised."

A tension fled from Jing Fei's body. "Of course. We were shocked too when the messenger hawk arrived this morning."

"Well what did he say?" Lien asked. She slid her feet into a pair of black flats and moved to stand by the door. Her chest ached for how hard her heart thudded. Already, her hand lay on the door handle, waiting. "You saw the letter, didn't you? How did he say he wanted me?"

Jing Fei shook her head. She crossed the room to join her little sister. "I'm sorry. I didn't see it for myself. Mother and Father showed Fan Li but I suppose they knew I would tell you so they left me out. But when the time is right, you can ask him for yourself."

Lien sighed but did not press any further. If she really knew nothing, then continuing to ask would do nothing but upset her. But now she wondered what Jing Fei had meant by the right time. When was it appropriate for her to ask him what he had traded for her hand? A week from now? After their wedding? Perhaps never. And even if she did find the courage to demand answers, there was no guarantee that he would tell her the price of her life.

She opened the door, listening to its groans of protest. The excitement of finally being allowed out of her room had waned for the moment. It was just a house. Now, she was occupied by calculations, trying to determine what her body was worth. Not just her body – her mind, her loyalty. She frowned. It didn't add up at all.

The sisters ambled through the hall toward the stairs. Lien stared at the paintings lining the walls. They depicted all sorts of scenes. Flowery landscapes, raging oceans, portraits of people she'd never seen before. She wondered if they were relatives of hers. Or historical figures. Or characters of legend. During her captivity, she'd read dozens of books – histories, mythologies, technical manuals. But only the technical manuals featured pictures. Well, diagrams. She stopped to stare at one of the faces on the wall until the guard accompanying them ushered her along.

They reached the ground floor after moving through at least five other levels. The furniture here was much more ornate than the pieces found in her room. Plush pillows of red and gold laid out on the floor. Wooden tables carved with patterns reminiscent of a flame's tongues. Lien entered the main room where a single table stood in the center, already set with incredibly fine dining plates. Her father sat cross legged at the head of the table, a scroll in hand. Her mother and Fan Li were not yet present.

"Father."

He glanced up at her. "Ah. Lien." His attention returned to the scroll he'd been reading.

"Is that it?" she asked. Jing Fei grabbed her arm but she shook her sister off. "This is the first time you've seen me in years and you scarcely acknowledge my existence?"

Again, his golden eyes regarded her. But this time, they lingered, nearly burning holes through her skin. "Perhaps, I should have invested in that tutor as your mother suggested. Your insolence is embarrassing to yourself and this family."

Fan Li pushed aside the curtain that separated the kitchen from the dining room and leaned on the doorframe. She looked so much more mature than when Lien had last seen her. No longer a young child, she had the figure and poise of a full-fledged woman. There was a small smirk on the girl's face as she listened in on their father's response.

"I am sorry, Father," Lien said. "I spoke out of turn."

"Better." He stood up from the cushion and approached her. Gaze sweeping over her body, he circled her several times. Then he nodded to himself. He turned to Jing Fei. "Excellent work, my dear. Yet you should have known to straighten her hair."

"We… There wasn't time," Jing Fei said, staring at the floor. She clasped her hands behind her. In that pose, she appeared so sturdy. Even though she trembled like a dying ember. "Forgive me."

Their father sneered, marring his usually noble features. His attention turned back to Lien. Never one to back down from a challenge. Or so she'd been told. He'd been a leader once, a man who knew how to get his way. If he felt slighted, he would be relentless. She tried not to meet his eyes, for fear of angering him further. But her attempts at appeasement seemed only to feed the fire of his temper.

"Bow to me."

Lien looked to Jing Fei out of the corner of her eye. Her sister positioned her hands and she followed suit, pressing her fist into her hand. She leaned down, waited, then straightened. The man before her nodded his approval. He whirled around, robes flaring dramatically, and returned to his proper place.

"Dinner is ready," Fan Li said, voice cheery. She hadn't moved from her spot since the start of the argument. "Will Lien's betrothed be attending or will this deal fall through like the others?"

Just at that moment, a knock came at the door. The pounding seemed to shake the entire house. Lien's muscles tensed. This was it. She ran through the firebending moves she remembered from her confiscated scroll. When that didn't work, she tried to visualize the diagrams of army war machines. Each miniscule detail. Ventilation, steering mechanisms, the insignia. She drew in breath through her nose as a servant opened the door.

The man who entered towered over the servant. His boots thudded against the floor as he approached the table. Lien exhaled through her mouth, softly as she could manage. She studied his army uniform, taking in the scorched colors and the broad chest plate. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to retreat. She noticed how her sister cowered but she stood firm. He looked over her briefly then turned to her father and bowed.

"Wei Sheng. I thank you for inviting me into your household," the commander said. He scanned the room, making note of everyone present.

"Commander Zhao." Lien's father stood and returned the man's bow.

By then, Lien's mother had appeared from the kitchen. She froze as she noticed the soldier. Then she gave a practiced bow. "Commander, we graciously welcome you into our manor. May I introduce my daughters?" As she spoke, she herded her daughters into a line before him. She gestured to each girl. "My youngest, Fan Li. Lien. And the eldest, Jing Fei."

They bowed to him as their names were said, but he did not acknowledge the oldest or youngest sister. He focused on Lien. She figured he studied her as intently as she had studied him earlier. If anything, he didn't waste energy with unnecessary politeness. Beside her, Fan Li huffed. But he still ignored the girl. His eyes were as intense as the sunsets Lien remembered from her childhood. And so dark, they could've been a deep brown rather than amber.

"Lien," he said at last, seeming to finish his examination. He bowed to her. "You are looking well. Not nearly as sick as I've been led to believe."

She hesitated. "Thank you, Commander."

"After dinner," he said, strolling deeper into the room and settling onto the cushion to Wei Sheng's right, "you will come for a walk with me." He watched her as if waiting. Then he nodded toward the open seat beside him. "Sit."

Lien obeyed.


	3. Chapter 3

Throughout the dinner, Lien sat straight-backed and silent. Her husband-to-be talked most of the night away. Bragging about his past conquests, the Fire Lord's high opinion of him, and anything else he could think of. She smiled, lips tight, whenever he happened to glance her way. But for the most part, he focused on her father. Wei Sheng nodded along with this particular story. Something about a library. _Well at least the man reads_ , she thought as she sipped from her tea cup. The spicy chai flavors mingled on her tongue. It made her stomach warm while the rest of her felt cold and detached.

Zhao fell silent to take in a mouthful of roast duck. The family waited. They watched him chew, their own meals mostly untouched. Lien tried not to roll her eyes. It was absurd how they all seemed to idolize him. She ate her own duck without restraint, paying no mind to how gluttonous she would appear. Although, she did notice the horrified expression on her mother's face.

"Lien, please," she said, voice low. From where she sat – across the table from Zhao – she had a perfect view of the girl's plate. No doubt, she had hoped the commander would not notice. But her verbal pleading drew his attention to the issue.

He turned to Lien, looking from her face to her now empty plate. The silence stretched on. Jing Fei paled. Wei Sheng was red in the face, a volcano about to erupt. Fan Li grinned as though eager for the confrontation that was brewing. Then the commander chuckled. The sound was deep and booming in the sense that it filled the room effortlessly. But it was somehow quiet too. And intimate. Like two old friends sharing in a familiar joke. Fan Li pursed her lips.

"A girl with an appetite," he said as his laughter faded. He returned to his food with more vigor than before. Perhaps intending to catch up with Lien. Between mouthfuls, he addressed Lien's mother. "Xia, why don't you tell us a story of your own? I've heard you used to travel." He set down his utensils and smiled like a fox. The matriarch sputtered over the tea cup at her lips.

She set down the cup, regaining her composure. "Of course, Commander. I have been all across the Fire Nation."

"Have you ever left the Fire Nation?" Zhao calmly drank from his own cup.

Lien watched the two of them. If she didn't know any better, she'd say that he knew something that made her mother uncomfortable. But surely that was impossible. It was just casual attempts at getting to know his future in-laws. Her mother stared through him, eyes unseeing. Lien felt her heart racing. She had never seen her mother silenced before. Something had to be wrong. She glanced toward Zhao, noting his devilish grin. Not so innocent after all…

"Commander," she said, standing up as gracefully as she could manage, "I'd like to go on that walk now. It's getting a bit late."

"Ah yes." His smile faded. "I suppose it is. Very well." He rose with ease in spite of his bulky armor and bowed to Wei Sheng and Xia. Then he offered his arm to Lien. When she took it, he led her to the front door.

Her heart beat even harder than it had when she feared retribution for eating too quickly. This was the first time she would be going outside in eleven years. She wanted to throw the door open, sprint into the night's embrace. She wanted to feel the grass beneath her feet and the wind in her hair. Just take it all in before it was stolen from her all over again. But this time, she knew to be patient. She could not make herself look immature in front of Zhao else he would surely reject her.

The door swung outward. A dark path lay out before them, reaching forward until it connected with a lighted main road. He guided her away from the lanterns, around toward the back of her home. A small flame burst to life in his free hand. She jolted in spite of her best efforts to act natural. Her companion glanced at her, an eyebrow raised. Of course he was a firebender. Probably a powerful one at that. Why had she expected otherwise? Her parents must hope that marrying her to a man like this would result in grandchildren who weren't like her.

He stopped walking as they reached the garden. A stone fountain spouted water at the center of several flowerbeds. Most of the flowers had closed for the night but a singular silver lily bloomed beneath the moon. Zhao extinguished the fire that had danced on his palm. They were left in shadow, with the pale moonlight giving them only just enough light to see each other by. He pulled his arm free of Lien's grasp. Her shoulders tensed and she felt her legs preparing to flee from him.

"You needn't be afraid, Lien," he said, frowning at her body language.

"My apologies, Commander." She met his eyes and breathed deeply. The familiar exercise of inhaling through the nose then exhaling through the mouth caused relaxation to spread through her.

"Call me by my name."

Lien scoffed but obeyed. "My apologies… Zhao." The name sounded odd coming out of her mouth. Did she really have the right to say it? She cursed herself internally. When they married, they would be equal. Why shouldn't she say his name? And she would say it with pride. He had chosen her to be his wife. Above her much stronger and better adjusted sisters.

He leaned up against the back wall of her house, staring at the sky, arms crossed. Lien strayed into the garden. She studied each bud, each petal with fresh eyes. The fountain babbled happily beside where she knelt down in the grass. Zhao dropped his gaze from the stars to the girl.

"What is this sickness you have?" he asked. His tone implied boredom, rather than actual curiosity. But his eyes told a different story. They bore into her, digging through her flesh for the answers held within her heart. She shuddered.

"I don't know," she said, trying not to look at him. She wanted nothing more than to memorize every inch of the garden. The sights, sounds, smells, textures. Everything. With him watching, though, she knew she could not explore as much as she wished she could. She settled down on the edge of the fountain and dipped her fingers in the cool water. "If the doctors knew what it was, I think they would have cured me by now. Well… I certainly wouldn't still be locked away."

"Your situation intrigues me," he said as he strolled toward her. Passing by the silver lily, he plucked it from its place. He sat down beside Lien and offered the flower to her. She shook her head. Something flashed in his amber irises. Something that disrupted the calm she had become accustomed to. The base of the stem caught fire and those starved flames devoured the lily, leaving behind a pile of ashes.

She gaped at him. All the words she could say jumbled together in her mind, melding into senseless mush. A man who seemed so reserved yet burned a flower at the slightest rejection… What would happen if her challenges went too far? Would he destroy her like the lily? She could almost envision him setting fire to their bed as she slept. The smoke in the room distorted her view of his handsome face as he left his bride to die. She wanted to scream at him in the present. But she held her tongue. Let him continue his train of thought without any other interruption.

"No one has seen you for over a decade," he said when he'd calmed down. A wheeze of air blew the ashes out of his hands. For good measure, he rubbed his palms on his pants. "That strikes me as odd. And it's even stranger that you don't appear to be sick at all."

"I don't like what you're trying to imply."

"I'm not implying anything," he said. "I'm simply making observations. The goal of this is to get to know you better, my dear. If you thought I would take you without a little testing…"

"Test away," she said, angling her body toward him. A surge of confidence charged her blood as if a bolt of lightning had struck her. It sent jitters along her nerves. Little tremors shook her and she felt as though all her senses were heightened. The stone of the fountain… She could feel every vein of it. And the water surrounding her fingertips seemed colder. "As long as you will allow me some tests of my own."

He nodded but said nothing. She wondered what he was thinking about. In the quiet of the night, she could hear him breathe in harmony with the buzz of insects in the lawn. The silence had surprised her. She had expected him to begin testing her immediately. But now he seemed lost in his own mind. Just scowling at the moon reflected on the rippling surface of the water.

Zhao turned his attention back to Lien. She smiled at him, looking so serene with the silver light glittering in her raven hair. Somehow, she'd become so much more comfortable around him. And she couldn't explain it, not even to herself. Sure, he appeared to be intimidating. His personality, too, was a bit abrasive. And if he so desired it, he could kill her with ease. But beneath the stars, sharing a quiet moment together, she felt connected to him. It had been many years since someone had sat with her just to be with her. Her chest swelled with joy and she felt she couldn't smile any wider.

Her husband-to-be smiled back at her. Unlike his other smiles, this one had no malice behind it. Though it was faint, it was genuine. Had it been a long time for him as well? Maybe they had more in common than she originally thought. She sighed then stared up at the pinprick stars above them.

"It's a beautiful night," she said.

"What do you want from life, Lien?"

"I…" It was a good question even if it was unexpected. She hadn't had the time to think about what she would do with the freedom this marriage would give her. "I would like to be a great scholar, I think. Through the years, all I ever had were books and scrolls. They were my companions during the worst of my…sickness. The knowledge calms me. And one day, I will travel across the world to learn all that I can about all four nations."

"That's a noble goal," Zhao said, standing. "I appreciate a woman with ambitions. I have my own, though they differ greatly from yours." He glanced up to the moon. "Perhaps we can help each other."

Lien found herself standing up as well, her fingers dripping as they left the water. She dried them on her skirt. Gingerly, she placed a hand on Zhao's arm. He looked down at her. They maintained eye contact for a brief moment until she broke it and removed her hand. She spun to look back at the fountain. The water spilled from the top like tears streaming down a face.

She glanced over her shoulder to see Zhao staring. When he noticed her eyes on him, he frowned but didn't show any sign of embarrassment. A blush crept over her cheeks. What had she been thinking? He was just watching, not admiring her body. She wasn't sure if she even wanted that from him. The age difference between them was significant and, because of that, the thought of being intimate with him unsettled her. But she needed this wedding for her freedom. She would do whatever it took to achieve that. Her dream of being a scholar and traveling the world seemed within reach now. If he would take her as his wife.

"Get some rest," he said before she could vocalize her thoughts. "I want you ready for a play in town tomorrow afternoon."

"I didn't expect you to be interested in theatre," she replied, allowing her tone to be a bit teasing. She couldn't help it. Something about his stiff nature made her want to just be herself and have some fun. And if they were to be married, he would need to get used to it.

But he didn't answer her. Instead, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back the way they had come. They rounded the house, pausing on the front porch. A cloud passed over the moon, left the pair in the orangey light of the lanterns nearby. It felt oddly romantic. Even though they were now within sight of the windows and whoever happened to be standing at them. She wanted to progress the relationship. The faster he fell for her, the sooner she would be free. But according to the stories she had read in captivity, it wasn't so easy for love to blossom.

"Goodnight, Lien." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode down the path.

She watched him go, backlit by the lanterns from the thoroughfare up ahead. For long moments, she stared after him. The shadow became smaller the further he walked. Then he stepped onto the main road, turned a corner, and disappeared from her sight entirely. "Goodnight, Zhao."


	4. Chapter 4

The main room of the first floor was deserted when Lien reentered the house. At the center, the grand table had been cleared of all food and plates as if the dinner had never happened. She glanced around for any sign of Jing Fei or a guard or even a servant. But she was completely alone. It was a familiar experience, yet so different. This solitude was not that of a prisoner. Instead, it was that of a free woman. Or perhaps she was merely a runaway, soon to be captured again.

What did she do now? This moment was all she had been waiting for since it had become apparent that her incarceration would not be short term. So many years ago… She paced the length of the table. Her eyes caught on the intricate carvings of flames and she clenched her teeth. Then she looked away, towards the back wall which was hung with a large tapestry. The fabric was dark burgundy and golden and decorated with dragons in various poses. A large green dragon sprawled languidly across the top with a notation beneath him. Several other rows of the serpentine creatures lay below that, each with their own label nearby. She frowned and strolled around the table to examine the script.

Names. The names of the dragons perhaps. Jianyu was what the green dragon appeared to be called. She read the next one down. Heng. That one seemed familiar to her, oddly so. Frown deepening, she moved to the next row of dragons. A blue one demanded her attention with its wings spread wide and its snaking body curled into a corkscrew shape. Her eyes darted to the neat black characters below the kingly figure. Wei Sheng. She gasped. No, this was not a tapestry depicting creatures of legend. It was her family tree.

Heng had been her grandfather – a man she had only seen a few times before she was locked away. She remembered him as stern and lanky with stark black hair. He liked rules, had a way about him that made people obey. But she had never viewed him as unkind. A renowned naval officer in his prime, he never paid them a visit without bringing the children mementos of his travels.

Jianyu, however, had not been a name she had grown up hearing. She wondered what had happened to her great grandfather as her gaze trailed down to the final level of dragons. Fan Li was a diminutive red wyrm, spewing all-encompassing white flames. Jing Fei's was a pretty cobalt and, although large, appeared translucent. Almost crystalline. When she reached her own representation, she couldn't suppress a shudder. She was a colorless wyrm, coiled into a tight ring with its wings folded at its side. A single crimson eye stared back at her. Swallowing hard, she forced her attention to a spot on the drapery beside Jing Fei. The fabric there had been burned, transformed into a charred blob surrounded by an untouched maroon expanse. Lien backed away until her leg hit the table.

She fled to her room, ignoring her surroundings. The paintings that she once fancied passed her by in a blur. How could she look at them? She didn't want to see their secrets. Maybe everyone already knew what she had discovered tonight. Maybe it was common knowledge. But she felt shaken, as if the very foundations of her family had wavered. Her lungs ached and she drew in a gasping breath. The air was suffocating her. When she made it to her room, she slammed the door and threw herself down on her orange carpet.

Her hands shook violently as she tore her hair out of its bun. The metal ornament clattered to the exposed wooden floor boards. She rubbed her sleeves across her face, smearing makeup, and nearly ripped her gown as she struggled to free herself from its suddenly choking hold.

As her frenzy wore off, she brought herself to her feet. She looked into the mirror, almost completely naked, eye shadow and mascara streaking down her cheeks. A flood of shame heated her body. She fetched a deep brown robe from her closet and let the plushness surround her. If only it could reassure. But everything was too wrong. One moment, she'd felt like she could finally take control of her life. Then the next, the illusion came crashing down. There would be no escape from this family unless they chose to erase her from their narrative. With her impending marriage, they were bound to take advantage in every way they could.

Before she could fall too deeply into those thoughts, a knock came at her door. She turned toward it. "Come in."

Jing Fei stepped into the room, carrying a small basin of water and a washcloth. She smiled faintly, lips still painted. "I thought I heard you come back. They all hoped the commander would have taken you to his bed."

Lien scoffed but said nothing. Her older sister heated the water with her hands then dipped the washcloth in it. As the makeup was scrubbed from her face, she searched Jing Fei's golden eyes. Did she know? She almost worked up the courage to ask, but she couldn't. It felt improper – not that she cared much for customs and formalities. What she did care about were her sister's feelings. The only one to ever bother with loving her…

"That was my reaction too," Jing Fei said about the scoff. She allowed herself a slight laugh and continued to wash Lien's face. "Close your eyes. I need to get that eyeshadow off." Her little sister did as she was told, still silent. "Anyway, I know Mother and Father are very taken with that man, but… Well, he's older than I had hoped. And he doesn't seem to have much regard for other people."

"I think he was just trying to impress them," Lien said. She cringed when the cloth rubbed her eyelid too roughly. Jing Fei drew back and apologized but she waved the apology aside. "He seemed interested in me during our walk. And he wants to see me again tomorrow."

"That's good…" Jing Fei reheated the water and dunked the towel into the basin. She rung out the excess then resumed her battle against the stubborn makeup.

Lien tried to ignore the doubt in her sister's voice. If Zhao was her only chance to leave behind this life, she would do everything within her power to be his partner. She thought back to what he had said about helping each other no more than an hour ago. He had dangled freedom and knowledge in front of her face but made no mention of what he needed from her. It should have concerned her. She wanted to trust in him or at least temporarily pretend he was deserving of that trust. She would have to come up with a way of testing him to be sure, though.

Jing Fei finished with the washcloth and basin. She set them outside the door, against the wall. A servant would pick them up later. Cautious, she strolled back into the room and sat on the bed. Her gold irises watched Lien. But she didn't try to make another attempt at conversation. It left Lien open to ask about the burned tapestry. She still didn't know if that was the best thing to do. Yet her curiosity was screaming inside her.

"I took a good look at our family tree when I came back inside," she said, sitting on the bed beside Jing Fei. She clasped her hands in her lap until her knuckles strained white. "Part of it is scorched very deliberately. Do we… Do we have another sibling?"

All the color drained from her sister's face. The blush stood out on her cheeks in even sharper contrast. Jing Fei jumped to her feet and scurried to the door. She hesitated long enough for Lien to follow and grab hold of her wrist. All the secrecy… Lien couldn't stand it. She had thought her favorite sister of all people would let her know what was happening. A pang of fear rapped on her heart. Perhaps there was a reason for it. The truth could be beyond her coping abilities. It could ruin her. She frowned to herself, resisting the urge to shake her head to clear it. That was ridiculous. Nothing was as bad as simply not knowing.

"I don't want to hear that we're not allowed to talk about it or that you're trying to protect me," she said, squeezing the wrist in her grasp until Jing Fei yelped in pain.

"He's dead." The older girl pulled her arm away. Lien felt her heart sink at the words. "He went off to war like Father, Grandfather, and Great Grandfather. Something about the family honor, I suppose. And he never came back." She wiped a tear from her cheek. "Goodnight."

Lien stood in the open doorway, looking out until her sister disappeared around the corner. Alone again. She shut the door and slunk back to her bed. It could've been hours or mere minutes. Either way, she lay awake, thinking. A brother she had never known. He had to have been long dead by the time she was even born. But why did it matter anyway? Gradually, she slipped into a fitful sleep.

* * *

The theatre was a stout building, nearly hidden by the noblemen's towering homes that surrounded it. It was made of pale stone and topped off with red shingles. It's height – or lack thereof – was the only unique feature. The rest was just like every other structure they had passed along the way. Lien's eyes whipped back and forth, taking in every possible detail. Even though it was all so uniform, she needed to see and touch everything she could.

As they entered the theatre, Zhao guided her off to the side with instructions to not move. She watched him disappear into the crowd of people and frowned. Surely, if he was just purchasing their tickets, she would be able to go with him. But at least this way, she could explore a bit more freely. She examined the other nobles first. The grand scarlet robes, golden and silver hair ornaments, the jewels flashing on slim fingers. Her own outfit was plain by comparison. Just a simple ash grey dress with a sheer red cover up. At least this time, a servant had been able to straighten her hair.

She turned her attention to the plant beside her. Something that wouldn't make her feel ashamed of her appearance. Its pot was tall and round and made of a reddish-brown clay. Her fingers stroked the rim, feeling a strange heat emanating from it. As she wondered where that warmth might have come from, she was approached by a woman dressed head to toe in purple. Including a wine-colored cap over her unusually short brown hair.

"Hello," the woman said. Her lips smiled but her eyes were calculating. "My name is Kiran. I saw you come in with Commander Zhao. Very improper that he should leave you alone like this."

Lien stared at the woman, blinking.

"Not the brightest flame, are you? That's alright." Kiran walked a circle around Lien. Her smile morphed into a smirk. When she completed her inspection, she stopped directly in front of the girl. "You're quite pretty. And if you don't speak…" She snickered. "No wonder."

What could Lien say to that? She didn't like what the noblewoman seemed to be implying about Zhao's intentions. However, protesting wasn't proper, no matter how much she wanted to. For all she knew, Kiran was a close friend of the commander's. So she simply laughed. It was small and weak, barely audible over the conversations happening around them. But it elicited an approving nod from Kiran.

"Do you have a name?" the woman asked.

"Yes." She paused for a few moments too long, as if expecting her companion to ask another question. "Um… Lien. It's Lien. Nice to meet you." Her gaze fell to the floor and she unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself.

Kiran's eyes widened when she heard Lien's name, but she quickly masked the expression. Instead of surprise, her face lit up with exaggerated glee. "Well you and Zhao absolutely must sit with my husband and I. We have our own box reserved. Best seats in the house, you know. Come, come. We'll find the commander together." Darting hands grabbed hold of Lien. She dragged the girl into the crowd, chatting away about how she was sure her husband would be glad to meet.

Lien allowed herself to be led around, knowing it would take too much effort to free herself from such an energetic captor. Besides, she almost liked the idea of disobeying Zhao's orders. It showed him that she had her own mind. She wouldn't be forced into blind submission so easily. At the same time, it gave her a bit of a thrill. Would he be angry with her? And if he was, what would he do about it? The thoughts were both exciting and terrifying.

They reached the front desk where an attendant sat with a small stack of tickets in front of her. Nearby, Zhao stood with a portly man. The commander looked down to meet the other man's eyes. She almost fooled herself into thinking that he was completely at ease. Then she noticed the red hue tainting his face. It was faint – faint enough that she thought she was imagining it. But no, as she drew closer, she knew it was truly there. He was enraged. She wondered if Kiran had noticed. Yet the woman didn't even hesitate to force her way into whatever conversation the two men were having.

Zhao glared at Lien, his eyes cutting through her skin like a blade. Though he did not reprimand her, she felt her heartbeat spike. She lowered her head and he turned from her. His voice boomed in her ears as he greeted Kiran. How pleasant he sounded. It made her stomach churn. She had glimpsed something in those amber irises. A darkness she never knew could exist outside of stories.

"Lien." Kiran's voice coaxed her back to reality. She gestured to the man Zhao had been arguing with. "This is my husband, Admiral Masaru."

Like Zhao, Masaru wore his uniform. He had greying brown hair and a thick beard and moustache that almost fully concealed his mouth. Amber eyes twinkled beneath a prominent brow. Compared to Zhao's, they were like daybreak. She bowed to him but stayed silent. Not that she didn't wish to speak. She feared she would come off as rude if she said nothing. But her mind refused to organize her thoughts into proper sentences. This was not the time to make a fool of herself. It was better to be silent.

"No need to be shy," the admiral said. His facial hair shifted in a way that suggested he was beaming. Unlike his wife, he did not scrutinize her appearance. He maintained eye contact with her, sometimes looking toward Zhao. "Is this your first time coming to the theatre?"

"Um… well, not quite," she said, taken aback. "First time in many years, though."

"Oh? What was your reason for staying away?"

Lien noticed both Zhao and Kiran shoot pointed glances at Masaru. Then his wife laughed. "You're so funny, dear. I know you wouldn't actually forget about Lien and her unfortunate circumstance. We were all devastated when we learned she had fallen ill. Remember?"

"Wei Sheng's daughter?" The admiral's eyes went round. But in a moment, he'd recovered himself. He shook his head. "You poor, poor thing. How are you feeling?"

"The play will be starting soon," Zhao said before Lien could reply. He reached for her hand, but she flinched away. That redness crept back into his cheeks. She prayed that he knew to keep it under control while they were in polite company. With an annoyed sigh, he dropped his arm back to his side and strode off toward the box seats Kiran had mentioned earlier.


	5. Chapter 5

The actors on stage brought to life a story Lien had only ever read about in her history books. Terrible destruction and death, spread across the entire map. She could only stare helplessly as red soldiers clashed with their enemies and fire flashed through the theatre below her. Cheers erupted from the audience, stirring the meager contents of her stomach. Beside her, Zhao leaned forward in his chair, mouth set in a grim frown. The flames shone in his calculating amber irises.

Soon, the nausea became too much for her to handle. She fled to the outdoor balcony, away from the stifling heat. With intermission still a little while away, the place was deserted. The afternoon air felt cool in comparison to that inside the theatre. She exhaled a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and leaned over the railing. The building was only two stories tall so the street below was not too far off.

Why had Zhao chosen to bring her to a play like this? What would he gain from her reactions to it? She watched a merchant's cart clatter by on the road beneath her. It appeared to be laden with fine silks in sunset hues. The threads would soon be spun into garments that the nobility would wear to festivals or important meetings. Or to plays like the one she had just run from. She wondered how anyone could stand to relive the senseless violence. Sure, the books said that taking over the world was a noble cause. They were to share their technology and stability with the other three nations. But to her, that had always seemed like a lie.

"You lasted longer than I thought."

She spun around to face Zhao, feeling terror stab through her stomach. Her hand gripped the railing behind her for support. "What do you mean?" The voice that left her lips sounded much stronger than she felt.

"I knew this would upset you," he said, giving her a look like a hawk scrutinizing its prey. "It was just a matter of when you would have enough of it. I'm almost impressed actually. Your parents said you were delicate but you stayed through the worst of it."

Shame flooded her cheeks. She wanted to disappear into her room for the rest of her life. How could her parents say such things to the commander? If they damaged his opinion of her, then she'd be stuck at home with them. Did that mean they'd changed their minds? No, of course not. They were determined to be rid of her. Perhaps being delicate was a good thing. Maybe Zhao liked delicate women. It didn't make sense to her, though. A powerful man should have a powerful woman by his side. They should accomplish their ambitions together.

"I find it very distasteful to use a tragedy as propaganda," she said at last. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Zhao grimaced at her phrasing – a brief slip in his composure. Though he regained it with ease, she seized the opportunity to attack. "If you think that I believe everything I read, you're mistaken. Of all the books in my collection, not one will speak ill of Sozin's conquest. Suspicious, don't you think?"

Zhao said nothing. Her heart skipped a few beats, interrupted by the feeling of surging pride. She had silenced him. At that moment, the fear she'd experienced earlier couldn't touch her. It was a high, a rush. This was the equality she had been looking for. A man with whom she could share her opinions without being intimidated or belittled. She felt like she was glowing.

"I think this isn't a conversation we should have in public." His words were disapproving but he wore the faintest smile. The balcony around them began to fill, signifying the beginning of intermission. He glanced around as if searching for something. Then he turned his attention back to her. "Let's leave."

Lien held back a relieved sigh. Of course, she knew that he knew exactly how she was feeling. But she would rather hurl herself from the balcony than let him see any more proof that he was right. He offered her his arm and she hesitated. On their walk to the theatre, they had maintained a respectable distance between each other. She suspected he didn't want anyone to know the true nature of their relationship. But now… Why the change? She slipped her arm through his, allowing him to guide her out the way they'd come.

Several nobles shot her dirty glances as they passed by. Perhaps Zhao had angered them at some point. Or maybe it was the obvious age difference between them. Not that it was anyone else's business anyway. She beamed at each one of them and stood a little taller. Without their verbal objections, she could pretend that it was jealousy that caused the hateful stares. The women envied that she had captured such a high ranking and honorable man. And their male companions coveted a younger partner.

"Oh Lien! Commander. Where are you two going? You'll miss the second act." A purple shadow forced its way through the crowd to stand directly in Zhao's path.

"She's lost interest," Zhao said a bit too sharply. Lien's grip on his arm tightened, as if hoping to warn him to calm down. He took no notice of her. "As have I. I've watched this far too many times. We have other business to attend to, anyway."

"Yes, of course you do. Take it easy on her, Commander." Kiran winked then cackled to herself. Zhao was unphased by the attempt at a crude joke. The noblewoman coughed awkwardly, taking note that her words were not well received. She bowed to the pair hastily. "I'll let Masaru know that you wish him good fortune on his next deployment. Have fun, Lien." Without a second look, she disappeared into the flood of theatre patrons.

Zhao scoffed when she was out of earshot. But Lien wasn't sure what caused the expression. After that encounter, he walked faster, probably not wanting to have to deal with Kiran's husband. Though Admiral Masaru had seemed like a nice man when Lien had met him. She would have preferred to run into him rather than Kiran, if she was being honest.

They left the theatre and Zhao led her down a side road. She followed him, eyes darting around, absorbing every detail of her surroundings. The traffic here was minimal to the point of being eerily empty and quiet. Occasionally, they would pass a shopkeeper standing on their front step. They would call to the pair but Zhao did not slow his pace. Lien smiled apologetically. Wherever they were going, it must have been important. Or maybe that's just how he was. Both options were equally valid. In her short time knowing him, he had never really followed along with the customary pleasantries that she'd come to expect from people. And that was perfectly alright. She liked that he didn't waste time.

He stopped in the middle of the street. She glanced around at the shops on either side of her. They looked a tad seedy for the capital city, with peeling paint on their signs and areas on the front where the stone walls had cracked. Turning to face him, she found his eyes to be focused on some place far in front of him. She frowned.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"I don't have much time before I have to ship out again," he said. His eyes returned to her and he scanned her face with such intensity, she almost backed away from him. "This isn't an easy decision for me. Though I am intrigued by you."

Lien's frown deepened. "You mean the decision to marry me." She crossed her arms, feeling a heat rising into her cheeks. Whether it was embarrassment or anger, she couldn't tell. "Yet you seem to want people to see me with you. Why? Gaging their reactions, perhaps? Does everyone here care so much about what others think of them? Cultivating a reputation seems tedious."

"Reputations are important," Zhao said. That same redness that she'd observed in the theatre was crawling up his neck toward his face. "For some, it's all they have. You should look to your own family as an example."

"Don't speak of them that way." Her own voice was rising, becoming shrill. Although she cared very little for most members of her family, she refused to stand by and listen to him slander them. She thought of Jing Fei – the most amazing person she had ever met. The girl had turned down several prominent suitors in order to stay home to look after her. She had thrown away her future for some useless nonbender. Lien would defend her older sister at all costs.

"They have nothing," Zhao hissed, grabbing hold of her arm. "They feed off your grandfather's and your great grandfather's reputations like wolfbats."

She almost struck him with her free hand. But she stopped herself. Along with not wanting to set him off, she'd also had a realization. He wouldn't have agreed to begin courting her and consider marriage if he didn't also need something from her family. She smirked as she tugged her arm from his grasp. His fingers released her in a moment of clarity, focusing instead on smothering his anger.

"You must be a desperate man, then," she said, whirling around and walking away.

His footsteps pounded the ground beneath them. Yet, even as her stomach churned with pure dread, she did not turn around. She did not stop. She walked on until he caught her arm again in an almost bone crushing grip. He threw her to the wall nearest her. Stunned, heart racing, she pushed out her hands to catch herself, feeling rough stone slice into her palms. His hand gripped the back of her head and pushed her face into the wall. Hot tears trickled down her cheeks.

Then, as soon as the assault started, it was over. She heard him retreat but stayed facing the wall. Legs trembling, she dropped down to her knees. Lines of blood crisscrossed her hands. She wiped the blood off on her grey skirt then set about fixing the hairs that had fallen out of her updo. When she finally found the strength to stand again, she turned to find herself alone. Dusk was falling and the air had taken on a crisp chill. She pulled her red coverup closer to her body for the inadequate warmth it provided. It was ripped now in several places – once on her arm and a few along the back seam.

She staggered home, ready to fall apart at any moment. When the weight of what had just happened hit her, she found a bench to sit at until she could continue on her way. By the time she managed to locate her home, the sun had long since disappeared below the horizon. The door was locked. She struggled against it for a few moments then gave up. She collapsed on the front steps, allowing the tears she had held back to flow freely.

The door opened a crack and a servant girl peeked out at her. "Miss Lien?"

Lien looked up, rubbing at the tears with her knuckles. Forcing composure upon herself, she stood up and dusted herself off. More blood streaked onto her dress. "I apologize for coming home so late. I didn't expect the play to run so long."

The servant stepped aside, permitting Lien to enter the house. She nodded her thanks to the girl then rushed upstairs. When she reached Jing Fei's room, she hesitated. How would her sister receive her after their conflict the night before? She hated that she'd upset the older girl but her curiosity had been too much to ignore. In the back of her mind, she worried that she'd forever damaged her relationship with her sister. Her hand knocked on the door in spite of all the fretting.

It took a minute but eventually Jing Fei opened the door, a small flame sitting atop her palm to light her way in the darkened room. When she noticed the blood and the state of Lien's clothes, the fire died, plunging them into partial dimness. She shot a few bursts of fire to light the candles in her bedchamber then guided her younger sister inside.

Setting Lien on the bed, she inspected the girl again. Her bloody palms, her ripped clothes, her red rimmed eyes and ruined makeup. She fetched a basin of soapy water and retrieved bandages from a drawer in her bedside table. Without hesitation, she began washing the wounds. Tender, almost motherly. She finished quickly then wrapped the bandages around her sister's hands.

"Thank you," Lien said, staring down at the pattern of Jing Fei's bedsheets.

"Did he rape you?"

Lien's head whipped up at the demand, eyes wide. "No. No, of…" She almost said 'of course not' but she didn't know anymore. The commander was a complete stranger. "He didn't."

"Thank the spirits." Jing Fei's eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "I was so worried when you didn't come home for dinner. Mother told me I was being ridiculous… What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Exhaustion hit Lien like the wall she'd been shoved into. She drooped visibly and her sister seemed to relax a bit. Perhaps she'd thought that Lien was becoming closed off or suppressing the memories. But, as it became apparent that she was simply tired, Jing Fei was a bit less concerned. "I'll tell you about it tomorrow. Can I… Can I stay here tonight?"

"You never need to ask me that," Jing Fei said, smiling like a tragic heroine from one of Lien's stories. The poor young woman had endured so much for the sake of her little sister. "Of course you can stay with me. Let's get you into something more comfortable."


	6. Chapter 6

In the morning, Lien awoke with Jing Fei still beside her. Sunlight filtered in through the heavy burgundy curtains. She sat up straight and stretched out her arms and back with a yawn. Her nerves buzzed with an energy she had not felt in a long time. The energy of satisfactory sleep. Careful not to disturb her sister, she slid out of bed. Although she wished they could lay together a bit longer, she knew she had work to do. She left her clothes folded on the desk and left the room in only a thin white nightgown.

Something Zhao had said from the day before clung to the forefront of her thoughts. His words mixed with the image of her brother's burned out section of the family tapestry. She felt compelled to research her family's history, to understand. Surely, there was a library in the house. Even if it was small, it should still have all the records. Death certificates, letters, journals. But if they were ashamed of what had happened… Maybe it would be hidden or destroyed and she would never learn the truth.

Her bare feet stomped on the floor as she remembered how the commander had insulted her. More than that. He had attacked her. She glanced down at the wrist he had grabbed, noticing for the first time the bruises she wore like a bracelet. A rush of shame overtook her, so strong she had to press a stinging palm against the wall for support. They would all see it and know how she had displeased him. She didn't know who 'they' were but it didn't matter. Somehow, he had charmed her into feeling secure enough to speak her mind. Then he turned on her. But it was her fault, wasn't it? She had called his honor into question. She had acted poorly. Stabilizing herself, she walked on, thinking of how little she knew about proper behavior in Fire Nation society.

The fiery yet meek attitude didn't come naturally to her. She was loud and tactless and felt removed from all the political drama. If she was ever quiet, it was because she knew she didn't belong here. Or because she had been humiliated into silence. But every morning, she found some shred of strength within her – enough to power through another day.

A mirror stood at the end of the hallway, reflecting Lien's indecent appearance. The untamed curls cascaded over bare shoulders. Her dress – which she had borrowed from Jing Fei – was much too tight for her curves, becoming nearly see through in places where the fabric stretched. She knew there was no one around to see her. Yet she still felt uneasy walking around her home, as if the guard would come for her at any moment and drag her back into her room.

Behind her reflection, she took note of the servant drawing closer. She turned around to greet her with a nod. For all her thoughts about being a woman with an uncontrolled tongue, she felt too somber for words. The girl smiled nervously.

"Miss Lien," she said, bowing. "Your presence has been requested downstairs."

She groaned inwardly. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation with her parents. "Thank you for letting me know. I'll just need to get dressed and–"

"It's urgent." Lien thought she saw a flash of fear in the maid's eyes.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she headed toward the staircase landing. If her father said anything about her attire, she would scream. Well, probably not. She had more control than that, especially after narrowly dodging a beating the day before. Maybe she would yell into a pillow later then. There was just so much turmoil inside her that, if more was added, it would explode from her body.

She reached the ground floor and hesitated. The atmosphere seemed hushed as if everyone in the building had drawn in a collective breath, tensing, waiting. Her heartbeat quickened. Whatever was going on, she knew she was in trouble. She thought of how inappropriate her outfit was for the punishment she was sure to receive. How did her parents even know of what had taken place? Did Zhao send them a messenger hawk to say that he was no longer interested in the arrangement? She wondered if he was aware of how fiercely they would punish her. Maybe he was smirking right then at the thought. Or perhaps he would have preferred to whip her himself.

When she entered the main room, a cold shock jolted through her chest, stopping her heart and lungs. Commander Zhao stood before her family tapestry. Lost as he was in the weavings, he did not immediately notice her. She considered running away but, after the initial surprise faded, anger had taken over. How dare he show up in her home unannounced. Her mouth twisted into a grimace. A heat came alive inside her, burning hotter and hotter the longer she watched him.

"I suppose you came here to finish yesterday's beating," she said at last, voice cold.

He turned to her, unflinching though his eyes betrayed his emotions. Startled, remorseful, and… something else she couldn't name. "Lien, don't act like a child. If I had meant to hurt you, you wouldn't be standing here right now."

She crossed her arms, unintentionally pushing up her breasts. "Some apology that is," she growled. All the pain she had felt was resurfacing. Yet it did not make her feel weak as it had when she'd knelt in the street. It grounded her, made her feel like she was right and he was wrong. She tried to meet his gaze, force him to recognize the hurt and resentment. His amber eyes flicked up to meet her brown ones.

"I shouldn't have done that to you," he said. Although he maintained eye contact, he seemed distracted. She wanted to ask what was so important that it was taking him away from the apology, but she held her tongue. It was best not to interrupt. "You don't yet understand this world and I need to be patient with you as you learn how to behave."

The boiling sensation heightened until it was fit to consume her. Of course he would take none of the blame. It fit him so well. Too prideful to admit to fault. She wished she could have just walked away but, when she saw him glance down again, her anger got sidetracked by her curiosity. What was he looking at? Just before she could ask, it hit her. The nightgown. Her cheeks turned bright red and she glanced around for something to use as a cover up. There was nothing nearby.

"Don't look at me like that."

He didn't bother with acting like he was embarrassed to have been caught staring. In a way, it freed him, allowing him to make advances if he so pleased. But for the moment, he was content to simply examine her curves. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

She didn't know what to say. Did it? Or should she have been relieved that a man she might have to marry seemed to be attracted to her? If she was being honest, it was kind of a nice feeling. Unfamiliar and a bit scary, but still nice. She had been much too young for men to show interest in her when she'd been locked away. A part of her wanted to keep it going, see what more he would do or say. The more rational part of her demanded that she stop playing this game. At least think a bit first… Was his acting out in anger just an accident? Would she be in physical danger if she became his wife?

"Lien."

When he said her name, any residual anger vanished. And so did those serious questions in her head. They were replaced by more frivolous ones. Was she attracted to him too? Could she see herself giving him children? She refocused on him before she could really think about the answers. He smiled at her, inviting her to come closer and she did so without hesitation.

"I know that you must hate me right now." His voice lowered to lure her in even more. The seductive quality of it made her dizzy and her heart raced and her body warmed. "But it would be foolish to let you go. Let's proceed with the engagement."

She almost agreed but she stopped herself. If she gave in so easily, he would win. Worse than that, it would set a precedent. He would expect her to forgive without a proper apology. It taught him that he could use physical force against her without any repercussions. Shaking her head, she took a few steps away from him. His expression darkened. Not in malice, but in confusion. As if he needed a moment of introspection to determine why she had disagreed with him.

"You intend to refuse me?" he demanded.

"For now," she said, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. "You said I may test you as I see fit. Well this is my challenge. Prove to me that you are a man worthy of my forgiveness."

The commander nodded to himself, eyes growing distant again. Although she understood that he had many other pressing matters to deal with, she felt confident that he would not disappoint her. Even if it took a few tries. He asked her for time to consider her words – time she offered in haste, eager as she was to be rid of him. She didn't know how he would redeem himself for her. She didn't actually have any concrete requirements. Whatever he did, it had to speak to her, inspire. He had to reassure her that he was a suitable partner and they would forever uplift each other.

When he disappeared into the outside world, she heaved a sigh. Her emotions were just settling down from being whipped around and manipulated. Despite the early hour, she felt drained of the energy she had woken up with. She wanted nothing more than to return to her sister's bed, where it was safe and free of the stress of her interactions with Zhao. But she reminded herself that she still wanted to find the library. Or at the very least, she needed to find someone who could recount her entire family history with awe-inspiring accuracy and detail. So, the library was her best bet. She almost laughed at herself for being as naïve as to believe that someone would ever tell her the information she sought.

Before continuing her search, she visited her room to get changed. She refused to have another encounter like she had had with the commander. There weren't many other men in the household to have such an interaction with, but those limited options made her uneasy. The guard who had kept her imprisoned or her father. She shuddered. With her disgust fueling her, she managed to get dressed quickly. She picked out a simple red and black robe and threw it on. Leaving her feet bare and her hair down, she returned to her quest.

She wandered for what felt like hours. Occasionally, she would peek into a room, only to find it empty. These rooms had no apparent purpose. They weren't even furnished. Curiosity slowed her progress, making her pause in each doorway and turn over possibilities in her mind. Perhaps that part of the house was being renovated and the furnishings were removed to avoid damaging them. Or perhaps something more sinister was taking place. She wasn't certain she wanted to know.

On the third floor, she opened a door into what appeared to be a small study. A writing desk sat across from her and several bookshelves lined the walls. Except in one space where a large painting was hung. The man depicted was vaguely familiar to her, as if she had seen him once a long time ago. He was quite handsome with his long silken hair and prominent cheekbones. Then her eyes caught on the hair ornament he wore – a regal metallic flame. It was identical to the one the Fire Lord wore. But… that man was not Azulon, nor was he Crown Prince Iroh. She tried to remember the few times she had seen the Fire Lord's family when she was a child. He'd had two sons, didn't he? Through the fog of time, she could not make out distinctive features on any of the men standing before her. She remembered the heat and the high rising flames. But not the faces

She shook herself free of the memory and turned back to the task at hand. It didn't matter who was the Fire Lord now or what had happened to the previous one or his named successor. Her own family was all she cared about right then. Feeling new purpose flowing through her veins, she strode toward the desk in front of her. The tabletop was littered with scrolls and books and ripped pages. An inkwell had been tipped over, spilling its indigo blood over some of the documents. She grabbed a stack of books and scanned their titles. Most indicated that the book did not contain the information she was desperate for.

After setting aside unrelated tomes, she was left with only one – a large leather-bound affair with its front cover embossed with the characters of her family name. A thrill of excitement electrified her entire body. This was what she had hoped for. She flipped open the book and began leafing through the pages. She skimmed over stories of her great grandfather Jianyu's glories on Fire Lord Sozin's battlefields. And similar tales of grandfather Heng passed before her eyes. Her father's section was laughable in comparison but she payed it no mind. Beyond Wei Sheng's entries, she noticed multiple pages had been ripped out. Not just a few, a considerable amount.

She groaned and threw the book to the floor. How would she ever learn what had happened to her brother if her parents insisted on pretending he didn't exist? Her gaze fell upon a drawer set in the underside of the work desk. Perhaps it held all the answers to every question she'd ever asked of the family. She tested the handle and found it locked. Promising. Now she just needed to figure out how to get it open.

"What are you doing here?"


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm sorry that this update is so late. I've been having a hard time managing my depression and anxiety lately which makes writing almost impossible. I've also been really busy with getting ready to go back to college. Thanks for your continued support of this story and for your understanding.**

Fan Li ripped the door open and threw a scroll onto Jing Fei's bed. Groggy, the older girl blinked at the rolled-up parchment then turned a confused gaze to her sister. She crossed her arms, waiting for Jing Fei to read the inked characters. "When were you planning on telling us?" she demanded.

"I wasn't." The admission, spoken in hushed tones, held a great weight. As if the eldest sister had carried the burden of the decision for a long time. She scanned the letter over again. "I can't believe this…" Her lips teased a smile but her overall expression remained grim. In the back of her mind, she worried she was still dreaming. Surely, she didn't deserve such a stroke of luck. But, as with most of the blessings in her life, it required a toll. "Please don't tell Lien."

Her younger sister scoffed. "All you ever do is think of Lien. What of me? And Mother and Father?" Fan Li's eyes glittered with tears that she treated like poison, clawing at her face until all traces of sorrow were gone. When she calmed herself, she shook her head as though in pity. "She drew you in and now she's pulling you down. That's the only way for her. You, Mom, the commander… Everything she touches will be ruined."

"You think yourself a prophet. Cute."

She sighed and turned to leave. Her shoulders slumped after Jing Fei's insult but she held her tongue. Although she wished to say more, save her honor and her sister, she knew the elder girl was too far gone. Pulled into Lien's toxicity, forced to give up on her own aspirations, forced to serve. It was tragic, really. She wished she could have protected them. Heart heavy, she walked down the corridor, away from Jing Fei's self-inflicted destruction. They never listened to her… Why didn't they trust her? She was the most promising heir – they had said so! Her hands balled into fists.

Lien did this. She tore the family apart yet had the gall to play the victim. Fire burst to life from Fan Li's knuckles. Eyes widening, body jolting, she stared down at the flames until she willed them out of existence. Not good. She recognized that the anger was robbing her of her control, resented the ever-present burning in her veins. Only training to the point of absolute exhaustion could soothe her.

As she made her way to the ground floor, she heard a commotion in Wei Sheng's study. She frowned, wondering if her father had encountered some sort of trouble. Of course he had. The entire family was steeped in trouble and it had been that way for many years. Lien didn't know of the hard times that had fallen upon them. She didn't understand the desperation, the constant need to be doing _something_ because all eyes were judging her and looking to her for hope.

Yes, she really needed the firebending practice. Her heart hammered in her chest as if screaming to escape. Faster, faster. Everything burned – blood, muscles, nerves. Ragged breaths huffed through her lips, dispelling black smoke into the air in front of her. Swelling lungs, heat flashes, pain. An all too familiar agony surged outward from her stomach, spreading into her limbs. She felt like dropped ceramic, her very being shattered. Her skin ripped open in jagged orange and red lines like cracks in a stone wall. Shrieks rose within her. Forcing them down, even as the fractures branched out. Control. She had to stay silent. Composed.

"Fan Li?"

Her head whipped up, turning her attention from her arms to the source of the voice. Wei Sheng knelt beside her, though she didn't recall falling. When she looked to her skin, the cracks were gone. She brushed her fingertips across the smooth expanse. Whole again…

"Fan Li, are you alright?" her father asked. He brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead and almost recoiled. "You're burning up. I'll send a servant to fetch a healer in a moment. Let's get you to bed."

"No." She jumped to her feet and compulsively brushed the dust from her skirt. Whether it was real or imagined, she didn't know. "I'm fine, Father. I just need to train more." She wondered how he had reached her without the door of his study making noise and alerting her to his presence. Then it struck her, as suddenly as her apparent panic attack. "Were you in your office just now? It was quite loud in there…"

His expression darkened and he left his youngest daughter in the hallway, confused, still reeling.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

Lien whirled around to find her father standing in the now-open doorway. Soundlessly, she bowed her head. Her mind flooded with possible excuses, yet none seemed adequate. Perhaps it was best to stay silent, subservient. Really, she didn't need any more anger directed toward her any time soon. And her father's temper was shorter than all others she had encountered. Even Zhao's. Well, maybe that was an overstatement. She didn't recall incidents in the past where Wei Sheng had nearly beaten her for words. Actions, yes. But her verbal follies were only ever met with hissed threats.

"Well?" His voice rose in pitch and volume as anger sparked the very air around him. Taking strong, resounding steps, he stormed into the little chamber until he backed the girl into the corner beside the desk. She stopped her retreating just before she could collide with the wall. He pushed no further. Instead, he stared her down. Golden eyes ablaze, little tremors running through his clenched arm muscles. "Answer me, you wretched little bitch."

She gaped at him a moment, all the retorts and defenses evaporating from her consciousness. Such language, such loss of composure… Though she wished she could have stuck up for herself, she feared the way the encounter would end. Violence. This time, she knew it was coming. She shrunk back to the wall for comfort and raised her gaze from the floor.

"I was looking for the library. This seemed to be the right place," she said. It wasn't the full truth, but it certainly wasn't a lie. "There was no indication that I wasn't allowed in here."

He scowled at her until she could no longer meet his gaze then he grabbed the family tome from where it lay on the floor. The book was small in his hands. His fingers, no longer flexed as though he would firebend at any moment, caressed the cover.

She waited with him in that moment. With his inferno of a rage now calmed to crackling embers, she did not feel the need to run to safety. It was like she stood by a lantern, basking in its warm glow. Yet something more… A deepness, a reminiscence. And she couldn't understand what plays were held in the theatre of his head, what tragedies unfolded before him. He had eyes that peered into the otherworld. Physically, he was present with her. Yet she knew that he was lost to some other time, some other place. Perhaps seeing all the things she was never meant to know. Or reliving his own failures – whatever those may have been. She hadn't read his record, didn't care to. If she ever found herself having any sympathy for him… Well, wasn't that what she was doing now?

"When did this place become so empty?" her father asked of no one in particular. "They gave us everything we have and we're losing it all. I failed."

"What do you mean?" she dared to reply.

He lost the fog that had taken over his entire being, returning to the real world. Lien couldn't remember ever studying her father as she did in that moment. She looked at him, _really_ looked at him. How had she not noticed the way his hair had greyed? Or the lines in his forehead? Like the pages of a well-loved book, he was worn through. But without the love, she noted. Too preoccupied with his own ambitions to seek it out. Yes, he had a wife and children, though he never doted on either. He pushed them all to perfection. He pushed them to continue the family traditions. He pushed them away.

But Xia had stayed. Why? What did she have to gain? It was difficult to imagine a younger version of her mother, perhaps going through the same struggles she currently faced. Scared of marrying a stranger. And confused and resentful. Lien sighed. Knowing she would not get an answer, she considered speaking about her current contemplations. Just to see what sort of reaction it would get.

"Jianyu earned our honor and wealth and power. He sold his soul for it…" Wei Sheng watched for a reaction but continued when she gave none. "Heng did the same. But I could not. They called on me to commit atrocities to maintain our status and I avoided as much of it as possible. I was shamed. Our honor tainted… Yet I was determined to rebuild on foundations of true service to the nation."

Far too soon, he fell silent again. Lien fidgeted, waiting anxiously for more. Although, he spoke vaguely, it was more information than she'd had before and she welcomed it. She reached out to him, laid a shaking hand on his arm. "Please. I don't understand."

Her quiet plea fell on deaf ears. He was gone again and so she left him to his haunted recollections. The only sounds she heard from him as she fled the room were names. His parents, his siblings, his friends. She sighed and shut the door.

 **A/N: So after I wrote that first note and about half of the beginning section with Fan Li, I ended up getting too sick to write. I really didn't want this chapter to be as short as it was but I figured I should give you guys something so that you'd know I'm still here. Thanks again for all the support. It really means a lot to me.**


	8. Chapter 8

Hours after the encounter with her father, Lien sat in the kitchen, a bowl of steaming rice cradled in her hands. She'd made it for herself, no servants showing her the way. The meager meal was a tad overcooked but her hunger kept her from cringing at the texture. It was quiet here. A place for her to think about what Wei Sheng had said. Her ancestors had sold their souls. What did that mean? And what did her brother have to do with any of it? She swallowed a mouthful of rice then sighed.

Maybe she would never know. And she should be okay with that. There were just some things in the world that she couldn't understand. If it didn't directly concern her, she shouldn't push so hard. She set her chopsticks on the table. The clattering sound almost echoed in the eerily still kitchen. But she was getting used to it – that emptiness, like she was always alone. Surely the house was full, yet she never saw anyone aside from her family and that one maid. Maybe a guard once in a while as well. It was an odd feeling, having this freedom to roam the house as she pleased but rarely ever encountering another living thing.

The curtain to her left slid to the side and the ghostly figure of her mother glided into the small, squarish chamber. She paid her daughter no mind until she'd settled across the table from the girl with a cup of tea. Her hands shook. But the rest of her being was like stone – face, shoulders, heart. Those familiar brown eyes glared at Lien until she couldn't contain the hatred.

"I had hoped I wouldn't have to see you today," the older woman said. She took a sip of her tea, nearly spilling it down the front of her gown, and acted as if she didn't notice. "Has the commander grown tired of you already?"

"No, Mother," Lien said.

"Well, if you've finished your meal, leave me be," Xia snapped, her teacup clanking onto the wooden table so hard it could have easily broken. "Go! I can't stand to look at my mistakes for so long."

Lien lowered her head to stare at the rice in her bowl. It was true. She was a mistake. And so was her brother and that's why he didn't exist anymore. Perhaps Jing Fei had been conceived to replace him. Fan Li must have been born to replace Lien herself. But the two were only a year apart. Their parents hadn't known that she wasn't a bender until around her sixth birthday. Why then? She risked a glance at her mother. The woman stared into her tea but didn't take another sip. Her brown eyes were red rimmed and accented by the purple shadows beneath them. Perhaps Wei Sheng had finally hit her. Or more likely, it was lack of sleep.

She imagined her mother standing out on a balcony, pacing before the railing, cast in silver like a spirit crossed over. Behind her, beyond the closed doors, Wei Sheng slept. He was indifferent. Lien felt a pang of pity. More than anyone, she knew what it was like to be ignored. Yet that wasn't quite true anymore. With her newfound freedom, it seemed as though she was the center of something much larger than she could comprehend. That was the only logical explanation for why everyone knew about her imprisonment.

"Mother," Lien said, inspecting her leftovers with an intensity unparalleled. She couldn't bear to watch the elder woman's reactions. There was a sharp little inhalation across the table and she knew she had her mother's attention. "I hope you know that you don't have to be ashamed of me. So I'm a nonbender. It doesn't matter."

Xia scoffed but said nothing. She reheated her tea, hands glowing like the embers beneath a campfire. And still, she did not drink from the little ceramic cup.

"I can master some other art," she continued. "Chi-blocking, apothecary, scholarship… I could go into politics or be a historian. I had dreams, Mother."

"You thought I believed you could not do those things?" The voice was like the final rays of sunlight, falling upon the scorched earth for mere moments before dying out. Her head whipped up. Never before had she heard such weakness from her mother. The woman had never been anything less than a lightning bolt – blunt and confident and shameless. "Such curiosity… Yes, my husband told me about the incident in his study… Yet for all you've read, I marvel at how stupid you can be."

Lien's shoulders slumped. Of course, she should have expected insults. Her family would never have a straightforward conversation with her. They needed to validate themselves by putting her down. Why did she approach them the same way and expect a different result each time? She opened her mouth to protest but her mother cut her off before she could voice even a syllable.

"These things should be obvious to you." A hint of the old Xia seemed to be returning, a surge of strength electrifying her words. But something was off and Lien could not quite place it. Maybe it was too much – not vigorous and stable, but frantic and simply loud. "How could you look at your sisters and not know? Why did you never question that? Everything else… You pursued every other mystery except that and I…" She shook her head.

At her mother's words, she took a moment to think. She did recall feeling a bit out of place among her sisters. But she told herself it was because they looked like their father and she looked like their mother. It couldn't have been anything more than that. Could it?

"Are you saying…? Mother, no." Her eyes began hurting with the effort it took to hold back the overwhelming urge to cry. "You didn't…"

"I did. I was unfaithful." She finally met Lien's gaze, her cheeks damp but makeup still flawless. "You are my secret shame, Lien."

She hesitated to reach across the table to place her hand over her mother's trembling fingers. A part of her wanted to comfort the woman. But where had her comfort been for the past decade? With a bit of a huff, she crossed her arms, shutting out the tears and silent pleas. This wasn't a game she wanted to play. She had to be as emotionless as possible and only speak to coax out the truth if necessary.

Xia sniffled as she rose from her kneeling position on the floor. She fetched a kerchief from one of the many cabinets behind her and dabbed at her under-eyes delicately. A quick glance to the curtain. It rustled with a breeze from an open window in the other room. Then she settled back down. Her dress's skirt billowed outward, creating the image of bagginess. As if she was a child wearing an older sister's hand-me-downs. The swooping sleeve knocked against her teacup, made the little dish quiver, as she struggled to sit gracefully. She coughed and drained the cup of its contents in one gulp.

"Well?" Lien asked. Internally, she repeated the mantra: _I am stone_. Anything to keep her from rushing to aid the distraught woman before her. Anything to force down all her instincts and emotions. Tone cool and body poised. Exactly how they always wanted her to behave. "How did this happen?"

"After what happened with Chang… I was devastated," Xia said, voice low like a fading heartbeat and eyes still darting toward the only entrance to the kitchen. "He was my first child. I really couldn't… Well he was dead to us and I had to remain with Wei Sheng like I wasn't ruined. We were so young… My parents suggested I take some time away from home and maybe the ache would gradually decrease until I could bear to look at my husband again. So I left."

"Where did you go?" In spite of herself, Lien leaned forward until she could unfold her arms and rest them on the tabletop. For the first time, her parent was being honest with her. No tricks or lies. She needed to be as attentive as possible. Like her first time out in the capital since her imprisonment. Taking in every detail and hoping to memorize all of it, just in case she could never see it again. In this case, she feared she would only get to hear the story once.

"The Earth Kingdom," her mother replied. "I was doing humanitarian work for the newly formed colonies. Just trying to put my own soul at ease. Selfish – I understand that. And yet it was what I needed." She smiled to herself, perhaps remembering the first encounter with that other man. Though there were still tears freely leaking from the corners of her eyes. They didn't seem to bother her.

Just before she could inquire about the identity of her true father, the curtain was swept aside and Wei Sheng strode into the room. She watched her mother suppress a jolt and possibly hold back a yelp. All she saw was the sudden paleness in the older woman's knuckles as her hands clenched around the teacup. Her father – or… no, not her father – stopped directly behind Xia. He clasped her shoulders in both hands but he didn't say a word. She wondered if he was still shaken from the encounter in the study. Or if he knew that she wasn't his child. He acted as if she wasn't even there, focused as he was on his wife. His fingers now stroked through the loose hair that fell over her back.

Lien stood and excused herself, leaving the half full bowl of rice and her chopsticks on the table in her haste. Neither parent asked where she was going. Not that it mattered. She didn't know the answer. Perhaps she would just wander around the house without a destination. But there wasn't much to see anymore. The novelty had worn off after she had been permitted to explore earlier. Most of the rooms were empty or very nearly empty.

She found herself staring at the door to the outside world as she exited the kitchen. No one was around to stop her and maybe they didn't care to. As much as she wanted to believe that she was the center of some massive, world changing plot, their recent inattention seemed to suggest otherwise. How could she feel so important yet so forgotten at the same time? Well at least they all talked to her now…

Well it was decided then. She shoved the front door open and walked out.

* * *

After about an hour of strolling around the markets, Lien began to grow bored. All the questions she had when she'd left the house were no closer to being solved and the monotony of the capital was beginning to wear on her sense of wonder. The stalls boasted goods she couldn't afford and merchants who would only pay her attention until she revealed she had no money on her. Then they would call out to the next nobleperson and the cycle continued on and on with different end results. Sometimes, a customer would take the bait and purchase spools of fine thread or jewelry or whatever the traders happened to be selling at that particular booth.

When she grew tired of the organized chaos, she moved on. But there was nowhere else to go. Most of the buildings in the Caldera were private homes. She sighed and lowered herself onto a bench to rest a bit. The briny smell of the nearby sea invaded her nose as a tropical gust pushed by her. Her eyes looked around, but all she could see were the high-rises and the wall of the volcano in the far background. What did the ocean look like? She couldn't quite remember. But that smell was almost familiar to her, enticing her to search for the source.

She jumped to her feet with a newfound energy. Another quest. Another reason to allow her curiosity to guide her. Nearly sprinting, she found her way to the very edge of the city, where ashen stone rose far above her and curving to hang over head, protecting from the harsh late afternoon sun. She walked the perimeter until she caught sight of the stairs that would lead her out. They were made of the same material as the walls, somehow built into the inside of the volcano. She wondered how the architects had managed that as she climbed ever higher. At the top, she paused to look back over the place she had left.

"Wow," she breathed. She hadn't realized how utterly immense the capital was. When everything looked just about the same, it was easy to mistake it for a small place. But now, she could see all of it at once. Breathtaking spires of red and gold, contrasting with lush greenery in several places and tiny silvery blue ponds.

At such a height, the air was a bit cool against her now sweating skin. She turned around and swore she could have tumbled down the outside wall of the volcano. The ocean lay before her, so vast and blue that it completely dominated her view. There was nothing but water for as far as she could see. Well, that wasn't quite true. But how could that harbor town or those statues compare to the natural beauty of the waves reflecting the evening sun?

Far below, there were several large Navy ships docked at the beach. She wondered if Zhao was somewhere down there, ordering his men about and getting ready to leave on another tour of duty. Although he still had a few weeks before he had to depart, she felt that he was the type to be prepared far in advance. It was odd to think that she had only seen him that morning. To her, those weeks could have already passed her by since she'd last been with him. But time was strange that way. Sometimes, a year could be lived in an instant. And others, a second took years to play out.

She wanted to go down to the village – just take a peek at those warships. Of course, she still hadn't forgiven the commander, but deep down, she wanted to see him again. The admission made her skin crawl. She shouldn't feel that way. Not after how he had abused her in public. With a small groan, she retreated back down the inside of the volcano, towards her home.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Well, it's been a year… Hopefully there are still some people around who will read and enjoy this story. Sorry to all those who I've kept waiting. I promise this time that I will try to keep my updating schedule more consistent. I also want to apologize if my writing isn't as good as it used to be; I'm really out of practice. I hope you all will be understanding and enjoy this chapter.**

"Oh Zhao, I told you to take it easy on the poor girl," Kiran said, shaking her head in a way that made the blunt ends of her hair sway against her jaw. She took a dainty sip from her tea cup as she surveyed her guest from across the table.

The commander scowled at her but otherwise remained silent. Kiran had wondered why he had bothered to accept her invitation this time. Seemed that he was a little out of his depth with a certain notorious bachelorette. She held back a giggle. Even feverish dreams had not led her to imagine such a scenario. The intimidating Commander Zhao, lost and forlorn, practically begging for help with winning Lien's love. Not one to disappoint, she agreed to devise a plan.

She frowned to herself. He had certainly gotten himself into trouble. Laying his hands on her like that… That was unforgiveable. And yet, Lien had offered him a chance at redemption. So whatever Kiran came up with needed to be good. A grand gesture that would prove Zhao had learned and changed. Or perhaps something smaller and intimate. After all, the poor thing's solitude had made her easily overwhelmed.

"Well, teasing aside… your behavior was appalling. You're lucky that she's so forgiving." Kiran met those dark amber eyes. The depths of them, where she knew his true emotions stirred, were unavailable to her. She sighed.

"I'm aware."

"No need to be so sharp with me," she snapped, shoving her tea cup to the very edge of the table. "If you don't want my advice, you can go."

Zhao maintained eye contact as he took his first gulp of tea. He grimaced at the over-steeped bitterness and looked away. How had it come to this? Somehow, he needed Kiran now when, in the past, all he'd wanted was her husband's secrets. But she'd proven a tight-lipped wife and he found himself obligated to uphold a tense friendship with the pair.

"You know better than to play games with me, Commander," she said.

"I would greatly appreciate the guidance of my dear friend," he replied, hands beginning to glow with heat beneath the table.

"There," Kiran smirked, "that wasn't so difficult, was it? You know, I think that might just be the first step to gaining back your lover. Your pride is suffocating. Be kind, be humble, break those walls down a bit. Just for her." She paused to scrutinize him again. "If you have ill intentions for her…"

"Is that what you think?" He staggered to his feet, legs numb from being seated so long. The graceless move betrayed him and Kiran laughed aloud. He fixed her with a glare. "We're done here."

* * *

After the incident with Zhao, Lien could not bring herself to leave her room. Suddenly, she was once again content with being secluded. Alone with her thoughts as she stared into the old ink painting on her window. The capital city lost all appeal. Monotonous buildings and every alley holding reminders of what he had done to her. She glanced down at her hands. Though the cuts and bruises were healed now, she still remembered the locations of them. The fingers of her left hand traced the phantom lines in her right. It was an hourly ritual.

And yet, she still held out hope. Hope that she could trust him again, leave behind her family to create a new one with him. She longed for a blissful married life. So far, she'd been disappointed. Several weeks had passed since she'd told him to prove himself to her and he hadn't so much as sent a letter. It wouldn't be long before he had to ship out for duty. She hadn't kept track but she was sure that he only had a few more days until his departure. There wasn't enough time…

A knock came at the door and she looked up from where she sat cross-legged on the burnt orange carpet. She knew it was Jing Fei. Her elder sister had been the only one to visit since her family assumed that the engagement had already fallen through. At least she didn't need to hear their complaints, be burdened with their disappointment.

"Lien…" Jing Fei slipped into the room, careful not to push the door too far else the air would be disturbed by the screams of unoiled hinges. "I… I am so sorry." She dropped to her knees beside her younger sister. "But I think I can help you."

The younger girl cocked her head slightly to one side. She couldn't bring herself to question Jing Fei, couldn't manage a curious expression.

"Yes, umm… I guess I should just come out with it. A few weeks ago, I received a letter back from the governor of… Well, the point is, I am to go teach in the Earth Kingdom colonies." She rushed through her admission, cheeks growing redder as she continued on. When she paused, she noticed Lien's widened eyes. Her next words were spoken like hot hair leaking from a doomed war balloon. "I thought you could… come with me?"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? Were you going to leave me behind without a word if I'd married Zhao?" Lien's eyes prickled with the sensation of needing to cry. But no tears formed. After all she had cried in the past weeks, it felt that there were none left. She rubbed at her eyes.

Jing Fei scooted closer to Lien and threw her arms around the girl. "I love you more than anything. You know that, don't you? But… I couldn't refuse when I'd been called to serve our country. I thought it would have been easier if I didn't mention it to anyone. I see now that I was wrong. I'm sorry."

"I love you too." Lien returned her sister's hug, clinging to the sweet-smelling fabric of Jing Fei's gown. "When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"You should leave me to pack then."

Jing Fei smiled and laughed until the laughter turned to relieved sobs. She kissed Lien's cheek, hugged her harder, then detached herself. As she regained control of her emotions, she said her goodbyes and retreated.

Lien stared after her until she closed the door. The experience left her head spinning with questions and emotions. She lifted herself off the floor and looked around with frantic eagerness. It was such short notice. What would she bring with her to start a new life in the Earth Kingdom? Surely, all of her belongings would not fit in her only traveling bag.

After spending an hour or so going through her clothes and accessories, the skin of her legs began to buzz with restless energy. She had spent far too long indulging her self-pity. If this was to be her last night in the capital, she knew she needed to make good use of it. Sprint down the beach with ocean water rinsing sand from her free feet. Haggle with merchants until she could afford a pair of beaded flats. Stroll through gardens, sniffing at every bloom she came across. There was so much more to the capital than she had boiled it down to before. A pang of guilt struck her heart. She had taken it all for granted and soon, she might never see it again.

The stale air of her home blew against her face as she dashed down the stairs to the ground floor. She only slowed to fling the front door open, eyes closing, breathing in the scent of lilies and trimmed grass and…something else. Something familiar to her. Her eyelids raised. Zhao stood in front of her, arm outstretched as if to knock.

His lips twitched into a slight smile as he dropped his arm back to his side. "Lien."

She stepped back. "What… What are you doing here?" Just when she had put him out of her mind and began to reimagine a free life without him.

"I needed time. I…" He grimaced. "Such a severe misstep requires me to make amends in a more elaborate and sincere way than I normally would. I admit that I spent too much time agonizing over the words that I would say to you."

"Try harder."

Zhao scoffed but restarted. "My actions on that day were deplorable. I deeply regret them and wish to move forward with you. To think that I caused you such pain…"

"You said you would be sincere this time." Her voice shook, no matter how determined she was to keep it steady. The phantom cuts tingled in her hands. She watched him struggle with her cold response for a moment. Then she spun around, withdrawing to the kitchen, leaving him in the doorway.

She knew he followed. She heard his boots trampling the floorboards. Her ragged breaths escaped her lips. Loud. Could he hear them? Did he know what his visit had done to her? The curtain into the kitchen rustled behind her. She panted harder than her heart thrashed against her chest. Her hands grabbed for protection. Anything in reach.

His presence loomed behind her, crushing her. The fog of panic took over her mind. She whirled around, pressed her knife against his uniform's chest plate. He stilled. The trembling of her arm caused the knifepoint to quiver. Metal scratched metal with a sound like a shrieking girl. Or perhaps her own mouth made the noise. She was too focused on him, watching his amber eyes flicker with shock. Fear, even. She moved the blade to his neck. She felt powerful. For once in her life, she wasn't a victim.

"Why me? Tell me why!"

"Put the knife down, Lien." His voice was low and soft. It almost reassured her, lulled her back to her senses. "I'll be honest with you."

Zhao stepped back from Lien and knelt before her. The fog inside her receded when she saw him willingly put himself in a submissive position. She dropped the knife. Her body flushed and quaked with terror, rage. But she held it all inside herself. Straining against her nature. She needed to hear him. The truth.

"I've known of your family for a long time," he said. The turmoil in his irises had calmed, sensing her returning control. "The legacy you inherited is a complicated one. Great power but greater treachery. Your house is floundering now and I've seen them reach out to anyone they can, trying to marry off their daughters. They needed prestige and financial support. I need powerful allies."

"That's it…?"

"No." He rose to his feet gradually, cautiously, ready to drop down again if he was threatened. "You asked why I asked for you and not one of your sisters. At the time, I chose you for the mystery. I felt I knew your sisters' natures. They were wrong for me. Jing Fei lacks conviction and Fan Li is young and unable to regulate herself. But you were completely unknown to me."

Lien hugged herself, watching him with red rimmed eyes as he stood before her. She didn't know what to think. It wasn't exactly flattering that he chose her simply because he assumed she had the traits he was looking for. Not to mention the fact that he seemed to consider his union with her a political maneuver. She frowned and shook her head.

He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "There's more but… I'd rather not speak of it."

Her eyes flicked to his. Hope swelled within her lungs and she untangled herself from her own embrace. If he would just say what she was looking for… Everything would be okay. She knew it.

The way her chestnut eyes came alive with sparking optimism… He steadied his breathing before allowing himself to give in to her. Swallow his pride for the first – and preferably last – time. "When I met you, I didn't regret my decision. I've found you to be resilient, capable, intelligent, and… beautiful."

A reddish hue crept into his face. She wondered what had angered him this time. It was all she could think about, too stunned to take in what he had said about her. Nothing, she realized. He wasn't angry at all. He had to be…embarrassed. Rosy blush settled into her own cheeks. It was attractive when he was vulnerable like this. If only it would last forever.

"Lien," he said, taking both of her hands in his. She didn't cringe. "Please, marry me."

"I… Yes."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been supporting my return to writing this story. I appreciate all the reviews I've received. Please continue to let me know what you think of each chapter. I hope you enjoy this one!**

"Is it true?" Jing Fei hadn't bothered to knock on Lien's door this time. It slammed into the wall behind it, hinges squealing. The traveling bag she held dropped to the floor with a muffled thump. "How could you agree to marry him? He's an abuser! I can't believe this…"

Lien looked up from her book. "He apologized to me. And… I don't know. There's just something about him." She set the tome aside and rose from her bed. She approached her sister, watching every miniscule movement. Any sign of aggression and she would flee. Jing Fei clasped her hands behind her back. Surely an attempt to put the younger girl at ease. But Lien maintained her caution.

"Where is he?" she asked. Though her voice was level, her body shook.

"Preparing for the wedding, I think," Lien replied, finally stopping and picking up her sister's luggage bag. "Can I help you get your things into the carriage?"

Jing Fei crossed her arms but said nothing. She looked to the floor, at Lien's slipper clad feet. As quickly as the resignation had set in, it was displaced by a fiery temper that Lien had only seen from Fan Li. Her older sister's eyes flamed. Determination acting as a fuel for her anger.

"No! I won't allow it!"

With her exclamation, she ran from the room, leaving everything behind her. Lien blinked, her sister's belongings still in hand. Then she bolted after the enraged woman. The bag banged along the walls as she went. She threw down the burden at the top of the stairs. Carrying it with her any longer could result in an injury. And so soon before her wedding.

She caught up with Jing Fei just before she exited their home. Panting, reaching out for her sister, begging her to slow down, stay. But she pulled her slender arm from Lien's reach and continued at a jog. Lien cursed her captivity once more. It had left her body weakened, deprived of the exercise that Jing Fei relied on for her speed and endurance. She stepped into the outdoors. Her sister was already significantly farther ahead but she couldn't make herself run anymore. Heart thudding, lungs sore and protesting. She followed at a distance, passing by her sister's carriage and its notably confused driver.

Eventually, Jing Fei slowed to a fast walk. Lien rushed to her side and synchronized herself to the older girl's movements. This time, she didn't try to get away. She was conserving her energy for something but Lien couldn't guess what that something might be. They walked out of the Caldera, down the side of the volcano, toward the sea.

As they neared the harbor, Lien almost forgot that she was concerned for her sister. The sounds of men calling to each other from the decks of ships, the smell of brine, the rush of the waves. All these things conspired to distract her from the issue at hand. She wished there was time to absorb every sensation into her memory. But she had to focus on following Jing Fei. She had to reassure herself that she would be able to return to the harbor on her own time.

Jing Fei marched up to the largest ship, at rest in the water at the final dock. Hundreds of men bustled around it. They carried supplies for a long voyage, large wooden crates that rattled with weaponry, armor, food goods. Lien stopped dead in her tracks.

Her sister grabbed hold of the burly man closest to her. "Where is he?" she shouted.

The soldier eyed her, smirking as he did so. "Take it easy there, little miss. Who're you looking for?" He shrugged his arm out of her grip. Lien noticed crescent indents in his skin from her sister's manicured fingernails.

The commotion had caused more men to look down at them from the ship. Including Zhao. Her husband-to-be strolled down the gangplank to speak with them. Although he didn't appear angry, Lien felt icy tremors ripple through her muscles. She was just beginning to understand why her sister had come all the way out here.

"Lien, Jing Fei," Zhao said, head cocked slightly to one side. He adjusted his posture and focused his attention on his fiancée. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Jing Fei stepped between Lien and Zhao. "I…" She hesitated, her fire seeming to falter now that she was faced with the object of her fury. But in a moment, it was back, stronger than ever. "I challenge you to an Agni Kai."

"Excuse me?" Zhao laughed, a guttural sound that made his shoulders shake.

"For Lien."

"No!" Lien side-stepped her sister. She grabbed for her fiancé's hand, eyes pleading. He allowed her to hold him but did not look away from Jing Fei.

"If I win, my sister goes with me to the Earth Kingdom and you will never speak with her again," Jing Fei said, drawing herself up to stand as tall as she could. Though she was the tallest of her sisters, she was still a head shorter than Zhao. "If you win, I will stand aside."

Lien held Zhao's hand tighter, feeling the coarseness of his skin. "I am not a prize to be won." His hand heated up in hers and she cried out as she yanked her fingers free.

For a moment, he took his attention away from Jing Fei. He turned fully toward Lien. "I've been challenged in front of my men. It would be cowardice to refuse. You understand, my dear, don't you?" He leaned down, pressed his lips against her forehead in a tender kiss. "They won't follow a cowardly man in these trying times."

Knowing it was useless to protest with him, she pivoted toward her sister. If she would just reconsider… "Please don't do this. I… I love you so much. I don't want you to get hurt. And especially not because of me. Not to mention, your ship. Doesn't it leave soon?"

Jing Fei didn't take her eyes off of Zhao. "I'll catch the next one. Once this is all over." Her next words were directed to her potential opponent. "Well?"

"I accept your challenge."

Lien clasped her hand to her mouth, forcing down desperate sobs. The once enticing scenery of the harbor became overwhelming to her. The smells of salt water and sweat infiltrated her nose. Ocean blues and the woodwork pattern of the boardwalk swam before her eyes. And the sounds. Everyone seem to be shouting and the waves roaring and the birds shrieking overhead. All the sensations contributed to her rising nausea. She needed to sit down.

Zhao's hands took hold of her shoulders, steering her onto the deck of his ship. The metal clanging of their footsteps added to the maddening cacophony. She accepted his guidance. There was no other option for her, aside from being ruined by the shock and confusion and desperation.

"Please don't hurt her." Lien repeated the mantra again and again. She couldn't hear if he replied to her. Everything else was too loud, even her own voice as it begged.

He left her a safe distance away from the planned battlefield. She blinked hard as tears formed. It was too late to save her sister. _Deep breaths, remember? Like you used to_. She drew in air through her nose, steady as she could. Then she exhaled through her mouth. Too quickly. A rush of dizziness hit her. She tried again, more deliberately. This time, she began to feel better. Calmer.

By the time she'd regained control, the Agni Kai was about to begin. Zhao faced her, shirtless, smirking. She felt her body heat up at the sight of him. Well defined muscles had been hidden beneath his uniform. She'd never imagined he could be so attractive. As soon as she had the thought, she wanted to slap herself. How could she allow herself to think such things at a time like this? She needed to support her sister. But she couldn't deny her sudden… discomfort.

The sound of a gong rang out, carrying on the wind for some distance before dying out. Jing Fei and Zhao turned to face each other. Without the traditional shoulder garment, it almost didn't feel as formal. As deadly.

Jing Fei made the first move, sprinting forward, punching bursts of flame at Zhao. Her opponent adopted a sturdy stance and broke the fire with his hands. He countered with a quick succession of moves. A shot from his fist then a kick that resulted in a fiery arc. She ducked beneath his first attack but stumbled as the second hit at her ankles.

Seizing the upperhand, Zhao advanced on her. Lien couldn't tear her eyes away. She had never seen an Agni Kai before, nor had she seen firebending moves in real life. All she'd had were the illustrations of the scroll. Her fiancé's fighting style was closest to the scrolls while her sister had more of a fluid style. Jing Fei leapt into the air, twisting, dodging each of Zhao's flaming kicks. As she landed, she formed a fire whip in her hand.

Zhao fell back into his practiced stance as Jing Fei lashed him with the whip until it fell apart against his unyielding guard. She screamed something at him, but Lien couldn't decipher the words. She charged her opponent again. This time, she created daggers to fight him at close range. Zhao parried her attacks with ease, knocking her arms to the sides. As she stumbled, he aimed a swift, sweeping kick at her ankles. She fell onto her back.

He stood over her, fist raised. Fire flickered to life around his knuckles, quickly expanding outward to engulf his whole hand. Lien looked away. In a second, she heard a crash, more consistent with the sound of bone hitting metal than bone on flesh. She turned her head back to the fight.

Zhao crouched beside Jing Fei, fist still planted in the ground beside the curled up form of his opponent. Lien found her strength and ran onto the makeshift battlefield. In a few seconds, she joined her sister on the metal deck of the ship.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm… fine," Jing Fei replied, panting. She rolled onto her back and pushed herself into a sitting position. The skirt of her dress had been burned to near rags. Long legs exposed, bruises already present on her shins and ankles.

Zhao stood and offered the girl his hand. She refused it and jumped to her feet on her own. Lien followed suit.

"You fought well," Zhao said.

Jing Fei glared at him but her anger and embarrassment at losing soon faded. Enough to acknowledge his praise, at least. "Thank you." She sighed. "I suppose my sister is yours. Please… take care of her for me."

The commander nodded.

Lien looked between the two. Triumphant yet stoic Zhao. Bitter and defeated Jing Fei. She wrapped her arms around her older sister. "I love you. Thank you for everything you've done for me. I wish you safety and prosperity in-" She choked on her tears.

"I have to go." Jing Fei pushed Lien away then retreated down the gangplank. She took off down the dock, heading back toward their family's home.

Stinging tears ran down her cheeks. She looked to her fiancé. He made no move to reassure her and just shook his head. As he walked away from her, she didn't know whether to follow or just leave. Her hands wiped at her eyes unceremoniously. She started toward the gangway but stopped herself. If she went home now, she'd just run into Jing Fei again. A shaky breath in through her nose began her calming ritual. Out through her mouth. In. Pause. Out.

She shadowed Zhao, unsure if he had noticed that she was with him. He led her to his cabin and sat at his desk, shooting small points to light the lamps. She stood in the doorway. The room was larger than she had expected. Metal walls enclosing a wooden desk and bedframe. The Fire Nation insignia on one wall, a portrait hung on the wall directly opposite it. That man she had seen in the painting in her father's study.

"Thank you for sparing my sister," she said, ripping her eyes from the canvas.

"I know she's important to you," he said with a shrug. His attention turned to an assortment of documents on the table. Making notations, signing in spaces, leafing through everything.

She stayed quiet for a while. The part of her that had been locked away for so long demanded that she leave before he trapped her there. But she shook the feeling off. Her gaze trailed over his body once more. The dim light highlighted his muscles in a way that quickened her pulse. She closed the door behind her. It thudded into place easily.

He whirled around at the sound, eyes widening a bit at the sight of her. "Lien." His voice was a low rumble, almost a warning.

"I hope you're not too busy," she said. Confidence electrified her nerves, jolting her into motion. She strode towards Zhao with a coy smile. He stood up to meet her. "I know you're leaving in a few days, but…"

She closed the gap between them, throwing her arms around his neck and connecting their lips. He grabbed her hips. Heat flooded her face, her whole body. All she wanted in that moment was to melt into his bare chest. The kiss lasted only a few moments before Lien, regaining her senses, pulled away. Cheeks tinted red, heart taking its time to return to a normal rhythm. Her certainty from before had slipped away. She was left confused and doubting her decisions. Maybe she should have gone with Jing Fei. To choose a man she had just met over the sister who had loved and protected her for years… she didn't know if that was a forgivable offense.

Zhao released his grip on her hips. "You're still not sure."

"This is just so fast," she said, hugging herself for safety. As if her arms could hold together her breaking heart. "I know we're to marry before you go but… I need more time." She kissed him again, a quick peck, then turned and left. If he called after her, she didn't hear it. All her energy was focused on getting away.


	11. Chapter 11

Fan Li punched flames at her makeshift target in the back garden. White-tipped fire collided with the cloth figure, exploding outward, setting the plants nearby ablaze. She had designed the mannequin to look like Lien. Perhaps it was fueling an unhealthy obsession, but she didn't have the time to care. Driven by anger towards her sisters, by the shadow of her inheritance. Striving for the best suitor, best career, best firebending ability was the only way to keep her house from collapsing on top of her.

She thought of Jing Fei, how the eldest sister left without saying goodbye. It had been a planned desertion. It seemed so long ago that Fan Li had confronted her about the teaching position in the colonies. In normal circumstances, she would be proud that the Fire Nation had called her sister to serve the next generation. But she'd overheard the conversation with Lien.

Why would she ask Lien to go with her? Fan Li exhaled steam from her nose. She couldn't understand their relationship. And how could Lien consider leaving a man as powerful as the commander? The girl never appreciated what she had. It made her blood boil. She sent several waves of fire toward the target, not caring that she was burning down the topiary. The woodsmoke stimulated her senses, urged her onward. She needed to work out her anger or it would consume her.

A final kick knocked the mannequin over and she felt her body cool. The calm after a good training session was like the sun – required for life, for firebending. She fetched a servant to put out the fires in the garden. Her parents would be furious if she allowed the blaze to go on any longer. It was a shame. Somedays, she woke up, knowing with absolute conviction that the whole word needed to go up in flames.

Although she would never say it aloud, she was glad when Prince Lu Ten died. It meant that everything Sozin and Azulon had worked for wouldn't be dismantled by Iroh. She knew he didn't have the drive that Ozai did. And Ozai's dream was so much bigger, something Fan Li would definitely support.

In a future that belonged solely to the Fire Nation, she would be able to succeed and save her family from themselves. Before the banishment of Prince Zuko, she had ambitions to marry him and rule by his side. But now, she wasn't so sure what she could do. She supposed she could become a military leader when she was old enough. Though that path would be a difficult one for her to tread, all things considered…

Perhaps a strategic marriage was in the cards for her then. The only worthy candidate she could think of was Commander Zhao. He was powerful enough to defeat Jing Fei in an Agni Kai and rumors said that Fire Lord Ozai was very impressed with him. She huffed as she walked back inside for a bath. If only he had been chosen to be hers instead. Lien didn't deserve a husband like him.

She paused by the family tapestry. Maybe if he knew that the little white wyrm couldn't bend, he could be persuaded to find a more suitable wife. Fan Li smirked. Perhaps after she freshened up, she would take a stroll down to the docks.

* * *

"I'm so glad you accepted my invitation, Lien," Kiran said. She cradled a tea cup in both hands. "We have so much to discuss, you know. The whole capital has been buzzing with talk about your engagement to Zhao."

Lien looked up from the depths of her own tea cup. The woman before her wore a perpetual smile and a pastel pink gown. "Did he tell you?"

"Oh no, silly girl." The hostess laughed. "He wouldn't ever spread such rumors about himself. It was his crew. They described an absolutely legendary Agni Kai between him and your sister and all the nobles are talking about it. It's so romantic, I'm sure the poets will go crazy over this. However…" She took a sip of tea for dramatic effect. "I must advise you to take care. You were isolated for a long time so you're not accustomed to all the politicking. The world outside your family home is dangerous."

Lien held back a scoff. Although her room may have protected her during her imprisonment, she knew that safety net had been slashed. It was time to prove that she didn't need it anymore. She had to find her way in this new, perilous world with or without Zhao. There was no other option.

"Thank you for the warning," she said.

"You're welcome," Kiran said, setting down her empty cup then shifting from a kneeling to a cross-legged position. "I thought I might be something of a mentor for you. If you'd like, of course."

"Your counsel would be most appreciated." Lien figured she needed more allies, especially if she would be left alone while her fiancé was deployed. The wife of an admiral seemed the perfect candidate.

"How polite!" Kiran giggled. The woman allowed the jovial expression to overtake her features for a few moments. Then her smile fled and a deep frown set in. "First of all, you need to determine your goal. And realize that it's okay if we're in competition. No matter which ambition you select, you will have to beat someone else out for it."

Aside from her dream of traveling the world to gain knowledge, Lien hadn't thought much about what she would do if she was forced to stay in the capital. Truth be told, she didn't know what was available to her. Maybe anything. Or maybe she would voice her desires and Kiran would laugh and tell her to aim a tad lower. She held her tongue for too long, still considering. The silence made her squirm but her hostess seemed unphased, that eerie smile returning to her face. It didn't reach her eyes. The deep brown irises remained calculating, surely already dreaming up her next political scheme. Was her offer of help one of them?

"No need to be shy," Kiran said, smile somehow widening.

"Well… I would like the freedom to travel and be a scholar," she said at last. It was the same answer she'd given Zhao several weeks ago, on the night they met.

"Is that all? Come now, dear, you can do better."

Lien frowned then took a gulp of her tea. She didn't know how to reply, didn't know what sort of ambitions Kiran had hoped she had. There wasn't anything else worth doing, was there? Be a loyal wife, aide Zhao in achieving his goals, and when she had time, travel and learn for herself.

"You know, I think you should look to the palace for inspiration," the older woman said when she realized Lien had nothing to say to her comment. "Maybe an advisor to the Fire Lord?"

She shook her head. "That really isn't something I can see myself doing." Before Kiran could respond, she jumped to her feet. "Thank you for the tea and for the advice. But I should be going. You've given me a lot to think about." She struggled to bow steadily and keep the nerves from overwhelming her.

Kiran scowled but quickly regained her easy smile. "Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you. I'll make myself available to you anytime. We could be quite the pair, you and I. One that folk tales are written about. Wouldn't want to miss out on that and be on the wrong side of history, would you?"

Lien scrambled out the front door of Kiran's home and almost jogged to the library. The conversation with the admiral's wife had left her feeling inadequate. As if she was missing out on something. She knew about the war that Sozin started and Azulon continued. But she also knew she was embarrassingly behind on current affairs. Her parents had kept her away from newer reading material, perhaps hoping to cripple her once she was released into the world.

Once she arrived, she set herself up at a quiet desk in one of the back corners of the library. Although it wasn't overly busy, she couldn't risk being bothered or worse, recognized. She gathered up an armful of newer-looking scrolls and tomes and spent the next few hours reading and taking mental notes.

By the time she grew too tired to continue, she had learned about the failed siege of Ba Sing Se nearly five years ago, the death of Prince Lu Ten, the death of Fire Lord Azulon, the crowning of Fire Lord Ozai, and the banishment of Ozai's son. Why had her parents held back all this information? It didn't make sense. There had to be something else they were keeping from her and all these other things were tangled up in it.

She returned the resources she had used to their proper places then left the library. Outside, night had fallen. A full moon shone down on her, illuminating her way with silver light. Warm breezes rustled the skirt of her gown. The streets around her were empty. Normally, the chance to be alone with nature was welcome. But tonight felt different. The shadows lay too thick in the alleys she passed; the capital was too quiet.

The library was a fair way from the main roads, tucked into the wall of the volcano. Essentially, it was about as far from her home as possible. She tiptoed down the path, minimizing any sounds she might make. A presence loomed behind her. She didn't know when or how she had noticed but now it was all she could feel. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Her whole body tingled.

She sped up from careful tiptoeing to an urgent stride, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder. Whoever was following her… It had to be a coincidence. They must've been at the library too. Any moment now, they would turn down some road and return to their home.

But the burden of this presence never lifted from her back.

Her heartbeat quickened, pounding hard in her chest. Her breaths tore out of her lips such that she was sure her pursuer could hear it. Part of her wanted to stop, just give up. She was sick of running from all of her problems. Even if it was stupid, she should at least know who her enemies are. She should see their faces before they harm her. Legs burning from the effort of maintaining her strained pace, she slowed down to a stroll. She breathed in through her nose, held it, released it through her mouth.

Then she turned around. Nothing. Maybe she had seen movement in the shadows. She stayed still, squinting into the darkness. Was that a human form?

"Who are you?" she asked as she clasped her hands in front of her. The whiteness of her knuckles caught the moonlight, making her fear stand out even more. She wished that she had had the sense to purchase a weapon after Kiran's warning. But at the time, the notion that someone might want to hurt her seemed ridiculous. "Show yourself."

A feminine figure materialized out of the patch of shadows Lien had been scrutinizing. Her stalker's hair was tied back in a ponytail and she wore a mask over the bottom half of her face. She stepped free of the darkness, approached her target with the grace of a seasoned predator.

The moon's light glanced off the metal object in the woman's hand, drawing Lien's attention to the weapon. Her mouth went dry, mind fuzzy. All she could think was that she was going to die. She screamed as the assassin charged her. Veins on fire, the rest of the world fading to nothing. Her body took over, ducking under the knife then kicking the girl's feet out from underneath her. Balance disturbed, they both fell to the street.

Lien wrestled for her life for what felt like an hour. Adrenaline rushed through her, making her fight on, knock the weapon away. The blade was tainted with red, but her mind couldn't understand what that meant. Her mind focused exclusively on survival. It didn't register the footsteps from behind her, couldn't comprehend where the sudden light and heat had come from. All it knew was that her attacker was running from her.

Hands grabbed her upper arms and pulled her off the ground. "Lien." She blinked at the sound of her name. The voice was familiar, as was the face that came into view. Everything was blurry and shaking. No, she was shaking. Then she felt the pain. Her stomach burned and that burning jolted her out of the shock.

"Zhao, how did you find me?" she asked. She pressed a hand against her stomach. An attempt to suppress the pain.

"You weren't at home, so I thought you might have gone to the library," he said. There was something odd in his voice but she couldn't place it. "Are you hurt?"

"Umm… a little?" She lifted her hand from her stomach. It was dripping blood. Her head spun at the sight and she laughed. "Oh. I guess I've been stabbed."

The commander grabbed her around the waist to prevent her from crumpling to the ground. He was talking to her as he carried her off, but she couldn't make sense of what he was saying. When had he picked her up? Where was he taking her? It was all too much for her to worry about. She exhaled the air in her lungs then closed her eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Sorry this is such a short chapter and it was posted way later than I'd been intending. I hope you guys still enjoy it, even if it's not as good as usual. Let me know what you think! I always appreciate reviews. Thanks!**

When Lien awoke, she didn't recognize the room she was in. The bed sheets that swaddled her were rough and heavy. The floor was bare wood. In the corner, a chair was laden with the dress she'd worn during the attempt on her life. She tried to sit up, but her stomach protested with burning pain and nausea. Curses hissed through her dry lips, cracking in the air like bursts of lightning far in the distance. Her energy turned back to assessing the room. It had to be a man's. The lack of decoration was jarring, even for someone like her.

The air smelled of nothing in particular. Maybe a hint of sea salt and woodsmoke but she admitted to herself that she could have imagined those scents. She breathed in deeply, the expanding of her lungs making her abdomen ache. Pain sparked within her again. She groaned.

Under the blanket, she could feel her legs were bare. But she wasn't naked. She could feel loose fabric around her. Probably an undershirt. Just another strange detail in a strange place.

The only familiar thing about her environment were the muffled voices she could hear from behind the closed door. Zhao's voice and a woman's, possibly Fan Li or even her mother. For the most part, she couldn't hear specific words. Just the rumbling thunder of her fiancé's anger or the shrill buzzing from the woman. If she strained her ears, she could make out a few partial phrases.

"…save her?" the woman said. "…worthless as a…" The rest was too low to hear. But it went on for at least a minute before Zhao cut in.

His deeper pitch made him harder to understand through the wall. Lien debated whether or not it was worth hurting herself to listen in. What did it matter to her if her mother or sister was here? They were clearly talking about what had happened earlier and, in their opinion, Zhao should have left her to die. That wasn't really a surprise.

"Oh come on." The woman giggled – it had to be Fan Li. "A handsome, powerful man like you…"

Lien forced herself to sit up. Had she heard that properly? It almost sounded like her younger sister was attempting to flirt with Zhao. She almost screamed as she aggravated her stab wound. Her teeth sunk hard into her bottom lip. The only way to hold back the sounds of her agony. She dragged herself to the door and propped it open a few inches. It gave her a sufficient view of Fan Li and Zhao and, without the barrier, she could hear each word clearly.

"You're embarrassing yourself," Zhao said. He stood with his back to Lien.

Fan Li's seductive mask fell, exposing a knife slash grimace and storm cloud eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but, for once, words failed her.

"If you have as much potential as you say, it's wasted here," Zhao continued. "I understand your brother's failures ruined any chance of a military career for you, but surely you must have some other option aside from this. Have some respect for yourself."

Lien missed Fan Li's response. She was too caught up in what Zhao had said about her brother. Not only had his actions warranted his eraser from the family tapestry and their records, but it also limited the opportunities of his siblings. And did Zhao know what happened? If he did, why would he choose to associate with her family at all?

She grabbed the doorframe for support. Her legs shook, her heart quivered. The scene in the other room grew further away, as if she was watching a play from the last row of seats. She struggled to stay standing as Zhao ushered her sister out of the building. Their eyes met as he turned around and, in a second, he was by her side.

"You should be resting," he said, already guiding her back to the bed.

His touch was so gentle that she could forget his comment about her brother for a moment. But she remembered too soon and his show of love turned sour, merely a distraction, not genuine. She sat on the bed and leaned back only enough to take the pressure off her stomach.

"My brother… Why didn't you tell me what happened to him?"

The question caught him off guard. He took time to consider his response, composing perfect sentences to keep the truth away from her. "I can't trouble you with that right now. You need to focus on healing." His eyes strayed to her stomach. "It's been a few hours. Let me check your bandages."

Lien hesitated. Beneath the shirt, she wasn't sure if she still had on her underclothes. If her blood had stained them, he might have removed them for her. Even though he'd already seen her body while first dressing the wound, it felt wrong now that she was conscious. She could take care of it herself. But in spite of her mind, her hand acted on its own, pulling up the shirt just enough for Zhao to inspect his earlier handiwork.

"Should be fine for a few more hours," he said. He sat down next to her and placed a hand on her thigh. Tenderly caressing her skin, gaze distant, troubled.

"Is something wrong?" Lien asked.

"You could have died. Why didn't you defend yourself?"

"I did what I could." Her cheeks burned, intense enough to overshadow the pain of her wound. If only for a moment. She didn't like where the conversation seemed to be heading. He had an air about him, like he'd figured something out. That triumph was subdued, however, as if he wasn't happy with what he now knew.

"It's true then," he said when he realized she had no further excuses. "At first, I assumed Fan Li was lying to sabotage you. But she spoke the truth, didn't she? You're not a firebender."

When the words left his mouth, Lien went numb. The feeling of his hand on her, the heat of the blankets, everything vanished. Her blood rushed in her ears. The blood vessels in her wrist quivered from the force of her heartbeat. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know if it was okay to admit it, let him know that the sickness she suffered wasn't real. How could she tell him of her family's hate, the countless hours she'd practiced until her muscles ached?

"I'm not," she heard herself say. The strength in her voice surprised her. It gave her the courage she needed to break free of her fear and speak without thinking of consequences. "My parents were ashamed so they made up my illness and locked me away. I practiced every day in my room, trying to burn it down. For years. But it never manifested in me."

Cool tears slipped down her cheeks. She couldn't meet his gaze, didn't want to know what he was thinking. If he left her over this, it didn't matter. Now that she'd had a taste of freedom, she refused to return to her old life. She would chase her dream alone. Her lack of bending ability would never hold her back again.

Zhao wiped her tears away. "You're stronger than I thought then."

Lien stayed silent. All the replies she pieced together were wrong. They couldn't express the emotions she was feeling, the relief, the sadness, the joy. He believed in her. It was all that mattered now. He believed in her. More than anything, she wanted to be able to let her guard down completely and kiss him until she couldn't breathe. But she held back. Something about what he said didn't sit right with her. She couldn't put a name to it or even describe it, yet it was there. No matter how much she tried to ignore it, it stood out like the sun's glare on the ocean.

As far as she could tell, her fiancé hadn't noticed her apprehension. She put on a weak smile then eased herself into a laying position. Wincing against the pain of her injury, she struggled to relax into the pillow.

"I'll let you rest," Zhao said, standing. He kissed her forehead then left her alone again.

She tried not to worry about where she was or if she was safe there. For once, she focused on the pain and let it lull her back to sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Lien had been resting for several days, only seeing Zhao when he came to check in on her. Usually at night, after spending most of his time at the docks. He had to prepare for setting out, something about taking control of a naval base. She understood, she really did, and yet she knew she needed him now more than ever. When in each shadow, there was another assassin and every noise beyond the window, a sign of an impending break-in. She shuddered.

Dull pain throbbed in her lower abdomen, beating in time with the breaths she took. Time had run out for her and this ache was just a reminder. He would soon leave her defenseless. Even worse than she had been before since her wound hadn't healed as quickly as she had hoped. Tonight would be their last together, until he returned from duty. She didn't know when that would happen. Surely, months or maybe even a full year. Thoughts from the back of her mind resurfaced despite her efforts to keep them down. What would happen to her? If not for her wound, would he have asked her to accompany him? Was it a mistake to put off their wedding?

Her imagination ran hand in hand with her fears. Visions danced behind her eyelids as if she was watching a play, all tinted red with blood and flames and love with a woman who could firebend. No. She blinked the images away. He hadn't reacted negatively to finding out the truth about her. That had to mean that he had honest feelings for her. She couldn't think of any other motive, at least.

A knock on the door caused her to flinch, shattering all her thoughts except for one. The assassin was here to finish her job. She forced herself to sit up, feeling a stitch rip. Her teeth sunk into the insides of her cheeks to silence her pained cry. Hands shaking, searching the bedside table for a weapon. But there was nothing to be found. Zhao was a firebender; he didn't need to keep knives in his bedroom. She breathed in deeply, held it, then released. Remembering those countless hours of training, the techniques, it all worked to calm her.

The door opened slowly and the face of her lover peeked around it. His eyebrows knitted together when he saw she was awake. He straightened then entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

"If you weren't sleeping, why didn't you answer?"

"I'm sorry…"

Zhao sat beside her. He ignored her apology and, not one to waste time, began speaking about the reason for his visit. "I have to leave in the morning. Because of your wound, I've arranged for you to stay with Kiran until I return."

"I can't stay here?" she asked, making room for him to lay down with her. She'd made the gesture each time he visited in the last few days but he had yet to accept it.

"It's not safe to leave you alone," he said. He eyed the space she left for him. Maybe he was tempted, though he still made no move to let down his guard. His lips twitched into a smirk as he turned his full attention back to her. "And Kiran is much more tolerable than your parents. I suggest getting close to her and her husband."

Lien relaxed a bit. It was for her own good. Zhao was simply taking care of her to the best of his ability. She wished he didn't have to leave her behind. She wanted more than anything to begin traveling and learning. No more hesitating. But it seemed that for the next few months, she would be stuck again. All she could do was pray that being on bedrest with Kiran would not be similar to the imprisonment she endured for over a decade.

"I'll… do my best to cultivate a friendship with them," she said.

"See that you do. Until they become inconvenient to us, that is."

"What do you mean?" The low grumble of his voice sent cold shivers up her spine. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to her question.

"My relationship with them is just a means to an end," he said, finally accepting her invitation to lay beside her. He pulled her body close to him. The sudden movement caused a flare of pain in her abdomen. "Make no mistake, they're doing the same with you. I heard of her desire to mentor you… Be careful, Lien. I'm the only one you can trust now."

When the pain subsided, her heart was still racing. She didn't know how to feel about his warning. Maybe he was right… He was just looking out for her. There was nothing for him to gain by marrying her. But now that she shared in his political power, she had more than enough rivals and enemies to keep track of. People wanted to harm her now. It was a situation she'd never imagined being in. For her protection, she knew she had to obey Zhao.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," she said, guarding her stomach unconsciously. Her mind was occupied with the implications of the original conversation. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was leading her somewhere she shouldn't go. A place of danger and deception and sacrifice.

For the remainder of their time together, neither spoke. She wondered what he was thinking about. Did he reconsider his plan for her? The one she kept sensing but could never properly identify. Was it with a guilt-laden heart that he pulled her into his battles? Or did he feel nothing at all? As a commander, she knew he'd led countless others to their deaths. Necessary casualties. That was how all the history books referred to them.

If their arrangement was to work out, she had to trust that he would keep her out of harm's way, that he would show her the love she'd almost always been lacking. She needed to stop doubting his intentions. It didn't get her anywhere. All it managed to do was scare her and make her dread what the future had in store for her.

* * *

In the morning, Zhao woke her before the sun rose and helped her change into the new gown that he'd bought her. He'd picked it out a few days prior, knowing Lien would need to replace the one the assassin had ruined. It was a simple design, plain red – as she preferred – but somehow, it was much finer than the clothes she was accustomed to. Probably made from more expensive, higher quality silks than what her parents could afford.

The carriage ride to Kiran's home was a rough one, yet still better than walking. Lien's wound was sore and she'd already expended as much of her energy as she could spare in preparing for the short journey. She leaned on Zhao's shoulder, pale, steadying her nervous breaths. With each bump in the road, her stomach sent out dull throbs of protest. She couldn't help but feel grateful. It was a sign of just how much she had healed. Had she made the trip a mere two days earlier, the pain would have had her in tears.

As they came to a halt on the side of the street, Lien could see Kiran waiting by her door. She wore a simple white dress, accented by a thin blue coat that must've been modeled after Water Tribe fashion. Zhao scoffed when he saw it.

"Where are her bags?" Kiran asked as they stepped out of the carriage and approached her. She folded her arms over her chest. "Poor dear, don't you have any belongings?"

"Yes, I…" Lien said, looking down at her feet. "They were left at my parents' home." Something about the way Kiran spoke always made her feel like a child again. Inferior, shy. She felt Zhao's arm wrap around her waist and a small jolt of confidence shocked her system. Her eyes met Kiran's.

"Well, I'll send a servant to fetch your things for you, no worries," Kiran said with a grin. Then she looked between the pair with a smirk in her eyes. "I'll give you two some time to say your goodbyes. Come right inside when you're done, Lien."

Once Kiran retreated into her home, Lien turned to face Zhao. He looked down on her with a certain fondness in his amber eyes. She didn't care to look into them any deeper. All she needed was that glimpse into the shallows of his irises. The reassurance, the love that he allowed her to see. She didn't care to investigate the thoughts he was hiding deeper down.

Her hands tingled with the desire to reach out to him, pull him close. But she hesitated. Anyone could be watching them, waiting to exploit whatever weaknesses they revealed. Her heart lurched at the reminder of her fragility. They hadn't spoken of it since that one night. On the surface, it seemed like their dynamic hadn't changed because of what he'd discovered. So maybe it really would be alright. Yet her mind gripped to its fears like a leech, feeding off of any negative energy she felt from him.

"I'll be back for you soon," Zhao said, breaking into her thoughts.

"What?"

"When I return, we'll marry." He caressed her cheek for a second then dropped his hand with a cursory glance to each side. "You should be fully healed by then. I might be able to take you with me next time. Under the right circumstances."

Her mouth went dry and tongue turned to stone. Whether from fear or excitement, she didn't know. She had so many questions. Was what he was proposing allowed? Would this be her only chance to live out her dream? And of course, the question she didn't really want to know the answer to… What were the right circumstances? Did it depend on her? Or maybe there were so many different factors that needed to align that she had no hope of going with him at all.

"In the meantime, I'll write to you," he said. His expression darkened as he stepped closer, looming over her like a tower. "If there's anything I need you to do here, you'll do it, understand?"

"Yes," she said, voice a murmur, shrinking under his stare.

He grabbed her chin and angled her face up to him. In the weighty silence, her heartbeat sounded like drums. Then he captured her lips with his, kissing her with a hunger that left her panting and struggling to keep up. Her head spun, dizzy, disoriented from the way he'd flipped from threatening her to this. Yet, as her fingers clung to his shoulders, she knew she wanted more.

All too soon, he broke off the kiss, cheeks tinted pink, eyes scanning her face for… something. He released her and stepped back. "I have to go."

"I'm sorry," she said, still breathless. "I kept you too long."

"No need to apologize." He gazed off in the general direction of the harbor as the light of the rising sun finally reached them. When he looked upon her for the last time, his smile almost seemed sad. "This is the first time I've ever wished away the burden of my ambition."

"I… don't understand."

"If everything goes the way I planned it, you will soon." Without another word, he whirled around and strode back to the carriage.

Lien watched it roll away from her until it rounded a corner and was lost from sight. After that brief conversation, she felt more confused than ever. She didn't know if she had the strength to deal with Kiran while the sound of Zhao's regret echoed in her ears. At least, that's what she thought it was. That there was something he had done – or was about to do – that he now wished he hadn't. But what had changed? As far as she knew, only her presence in his life.

She sighed. Standing around, overthinking things wasn't the way to get the answer. She had to be patient, await his letters, bide time until he revealed everything to her. Shoulders drooping, she made her way into Kiran's home.

"Cheer up, dear, he'll be back before you know it." Although Kiran's choice of words was the same, the tone felt different. Compassionate, empathetic.

Lien knew that Kiran understood. Her mind conjured images of the woman in her usual eccentric attire, waving yet another goodbye to her husband's ship. The sorrow on her face clashed with the brightness of her dress.

"I need to rest…"

"Of course." Kiran gestured for her to follow. "Your room is this way."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Yes, I'm still alive. I just want to say that I'm so grateful to the people who have been reading this story and following/favoriting/reviewing in my absence. Thank you for your support and your patience. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a long one!**

Cool saltwater lapped over Lien's toes as the moon reflected into her eyes. She didn't remember walking down to the docks, didn't remember anything beyond the present moment. The night air caressed her cheek, tousled her hair. Loose black curls swaying in the wind's sweet rhythm. She smiled, leaning her head back until her field of view was conquered by the stars that decorated the black expanse like freckles.

She lowered her gaze to the waves, losing herself in their almost hypnotic rocking. In the distance, she caught sight of a silvery gleam below the surface. It was moving toward her with alarming speed. She lifted her legs out of the water at the same time her traitorous hands pushed her in. The blue swallowed her, dragging her deep down. Until the moon above disappeared and all she could see was her own body glowing white in the nothingness.

Straight red gashes opened in her thighs, stinging at the touch of the saltwater. Intentional wounds. The blood stained the sea around her. She felt no fear. Even as the pain faded and her vision dimmed. Even as the gaping maw of a silver serpent neared her, drawn by the scent of her blood.

* * *

Lien threw herself into a sitting position. The guestroom was beginning to lighten as the sun rose outside her window. Skin slick with sweat, limbs trembling, the old wound aching. She forced herself to slow her gasps down to regular breaths. She was safe in Kiran's home. It had been months since the attempt on her life. All that remained of that night was a wicked scar across her stomach and the nightmares.

This one was a little… unusual. She usually relived the night with some variations. Like dying or being brought to a different location and tortured. But nothing came close to what she had just experienced. She tried to shake off the dream, the all-encompassing cold and blood and beastly fangs. Her feet hit the floor with a light thud that knocked the lingering images out of her mind.

She threw open the wardrobe. Dresses in every style and color were packed inside. After a few weeks of wearing her own gowns, Kiran decided to outfit her guest with "more suitable" clothing. Her fingers stroked the silky green fabric of the Earth Kingdom cheongsams. She wondered if Jing Fei wore dresses like these in her new life. Though her tastes aligned more with Fire Nation fashions, she selected the darkest green cheongsam available to her. In the aftermath of her nightmare, she wanted to feel as close to her older sister as possible. She left her hair down in its natural waves then joined Kiran for breakfast.

Kiran beamed as she noticed Lien's choice of dress. "Pine is such a wonderful color on you. Just gorgeous. You should have been an Earth Kingdom girl."

Lien couldn't eat after that comment. She pushed the food around her plate but never raised the chopsticks to her mouth. Kiran didn't seem to notice that she'd brought unpleasant memories back to Lien. Months ago, her mother had confessed her infidelity, confessed that Lien's father was not Wei Sheng but some man in the Earth Kingdom.

She was still struggling with the reminder and all the questions that came with it when Kiran cleared her throat obnoxiously.

"A letter from Zhao arrived just before you came down," she said, pulling a sealed scroll from the billowing sleeves of her crimson gown. It was the first time Lien had seen her in traditional Fire Nation colors.

Her hands shook from hunger and fatigue as she took the scroll from Kiran. She broke Zhao's now familiar seal. There were few characters to scan. This letter was not as detailed as she had grown accustomed to. Just the words: _I'll be home soon._ Heat rose into her cheeks as her heart hammered in her chest. She set the letter down on the table. Kiran's eyes snuck a glance at the brief message and smiled.

"He must be coming back to marry you," she said. She stood, leaving her dirty dishes. She grabbed Lien and pulled the girl into a crushing embrace. "How exciting! We absolutely must have a spa day to get you ready. What do you think?"

"Oh umm…" She coughed until Kiran released her. Her eyes stared at the floor, searching for patterns in the wooden planks.

Kiran examined her guest. They had spent some time getting to know each other since Lien had recovered from the attack, just enough that she learned to read the girl's expressions. She set her features in exaggerated dismay.

"Have you changed your mind about marrying the commander? It couldn't possibly be that you don't want to spend time with me. We've grown so close…"

"I…" Lien met Kiran's gaze, finding no hint of teasing in spite of her almost playful tone. "I suppose I'm just nervous about… after the ceremony…"

Kiran's red painted lips shifted from a frown to a slight smirk. "Oh, I see. Well, no worries, my darling pet. I can tell you everything you need to know about all that."

Lien cringed at the nickname unconsciously. Before she could recover enough poise to decline her offer politely, Kiran launched into an excruciatingly detailed account of her own wedding night ten years ago. Lien blushed furiously but couldn't find the right words to bring an end to the verbal torment. She was petrified, eyes stuck wide, jaw locked.

Kiran sighed dreamily as she came to the end of her story. She composed herself then focused on Lien. "So, really, there's nothing to be scared of. Well, I suppose Zhao might not be as gentle as my Masaru. And he definitely isn't as patient… But no, no, everything will be fine. Don't worry."

Lien nodded despite feeling less confident than she had been before the conversation started. She managed to keep a tight smile on her lips until Kiran finally excused herself. Something about needing to check in with her servants. Lien waited a few minutes before running out the front door. Since Zhao dropped her off several months ago, she hadn't had much time alone. Most times, Kiran assigned a guard to watch her whenever she left the house. It made sense in the early days, when Lien was weak from her wound and the assassin was presumed to be still watching. Waiting for them to make a mistake.

But with no incidents in months, she thought it would be fine to walk alone as long as she was back to Kiran's before it got dark. Still, she felt uneasy after the dream she'd had. She found herself wandering the streets of the capital, weaving towards the market. In his last letter, Zhao had sent some money, told her to get anything she needed. Surely, he wouldn't mind if she got a little something to protect herself.

The merchant snickered as she approached his stand. She ignored his lingering gazes and the comments he mumbled to his business partner – a teen about her age and, most likely, the man's son. Her fingers traced over knife blades and squeezed the hilts. She tested each one before settling on a simple steel dagger with a hilt wrapped in black leather straps. It was cheap, but felt sturdy enough.

She paid without incident and tucked the weapon into the belt of her dress. It wasn't too secure, but she was reluctant to purchase a proper sheath from those men. Her nose crinkled at the thought of them. There was no doubt in her mind that the father had made crude comments about her. Perhaps it had something to do with her Earth Kingdom style… She looked down at the silky green fabric and hugged herself. Part of her considered returning to Kiran's so she could change into something that would just let her blend in with everyone else.

Before she could make a decision, her attention was drawn by the sound of raised voices behind her. She spun around just in time to see a child sprinting towards her. The grimy little boy grabbed a fistful of her skirt as he hid behind her.

"Please help me, miss." His voice wavered and cracked as the words passed through his dry lips.

She opened her mouth to question him but she was interrupted by a new voice. "Excuse me, do you know this boy?" It was an elder man who she recognized from the produce stall across the square.

"Has he done something?"

The man scoffed. "He's stolen from me again." He directed his next comment at the child, trying to reach around Lien to grab him. "Pay me what I'm owed, ya damn bastard."

Lien shielded the boy from those thick grasping fingers. "I have money, sir. How much?"

The grocer mumbled an amount that seemed so small in comparison to what Lien had just spent on the dagger. It couldn't have gotten the boy much more than a few ash bananas and some chilies. She handed over the amount due without hesitation. The man counted out each of the coins, fixed the child with a glare, then returned to his stall.

"Thank you…" The boy released his grip on her skirt and scuttled away into the nearest alley before Lien could question him.

She frowned after him but decided to leave him be. It was best not to get invested in such people. At the moment, she didn't have the resources to care for all of the less-than-fortunate in the city. Her chest constricted at the thought of that little boy stealing food again just to make it another day. Having to sleep on the street, getting sick… It made her heart ache. Even her ten-year imprisonment couldn't compare to the struggle of the poor and rejected.

In that moment, she remembered what Kiran had said about becoming an advisor to the Fire Lord. Perhaps it would give her the opportunity to help these people somehow. Maybe it was worth looking into. Even if she didn't have the right experience, she was sure her determination and love of knowledge could gain his respect.

Her shoulders slumped as her legs carried her to the edge of the city. It was just a foolish dream. So many others would be vying for that position. She didn't stand a chance. Tears prickled in her eyes. There was nothing special about her. She'd been hidden away out of shame, not because she had some sort of grand destiny that her family tried to keep her from fulfilling.

When she finally knocked herself out of her self-pity, she found herself standing on the harbor boardwalk. The sun was sinking toward the horizon and the late-arriving merchant ships were docking for the night. She blinked a few times. How long had she been standing there?

As she turned to head back to Kiran's, she noticed a warship pulling up to the last available dock. Her heart raced and a heat rose unbidden to her face. She hung back for a while, watching, telling herself again and again that it couldn't have been Zhao. Not yet. From his previous letters, it seemed as though he was still patrolling the border between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom. By her estimate, it should have taken him a week to return home.

She studied the ship. From such a distance, she couldn't place it, but something about it was odd. She crept forward, trying not to draw attention to herself. At about 100 feet, the finer details came into sharp focus. The metal on the right side slouched as though it had been melted. She ran forward as the crew finished securing the ship. Several men, uniforms stained light grey with ash, gave her odd looks but did nothing to stop her.

Zhao was the last to leave the warship. He stood at the end of the gangplank with an engineer. Lien slowed as she drew close enough to hear their conversation.

"These repairs will take time, sir," the engineer said. He wiped the sweat on his brow with a filthy handkerchief. "It'd be faster to just petition the admiral for a new one. For the time being."

"Of course." Zhao's voice sounded a bit hoarse and strained with the effort of controlling his anger and frustration. His eyes flicked to the side, noticing Lien for the first time. He swept past the engineer with a muttered order.

Lien paled as he approached her. Her heart hadn't stopped thundering against her ribs and the short sprint left her gasping, dizzy.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, grasping her upper arms to steady her.

When she didn't reply, he pulled her to his chest, wrapped his arms around her waist. He smelled of sweat and smoke. His uniform was singed in places and covered in more ash than she'd seen on the rest of his men. He looked like he'd fought a volcanic eruption on his own. Like the stories she'd read about Avatar Roku. The comparison sent shivers down her spine. But he was alive. Somehow.

She pulled out of the embrace, still holding him loosely. She didn't trust herself to stand on her own. Her eyes studied his face, took note of the greyish hue of his skin, the shadows beneath his eyes. And the hint of bandages peeking out from underneath his collar. Tremors wracked her body. She didn't know the exact odds, but she assumed his arrival here was a miracle. Whatever he had faced out there could have killed him.

He wiped away a tear she hadn't realized she'd shed. His hand lingered on her cheek, stroking her skin absently. Then he released her and stepped back. The affection she thought she'd glimpsed in his eyes vanished. His irises darkened, tainted by an emotion she couldn't recognize.

"I need to talk to you," he said at last.

* * *

An hour later, they sat together in Zhao's home. Her fiancé had bathed and changed, leaving his damaged uniform with a servant. Lien fidgeted with the hilt of her dagger as she waited for him to speak. They sipped on jasmine tea for a few minutes before he broke the silence.

"You've said Kiran's been treating you well?" He didn't make eye contact with her. The tea eased his vocal cords a bit, making his voice sound less like he'd been yelling orders for hours.

"Yes." She set her knife on the table.

"Fine," he said, setting down his cup with a sharp clink. Lien flinched. "You're not interested in insincere pleasantries. Then listen to me closely and don't say a word until I'm done."

She nodded her agreement and sat with her lips pressed tightly together as he launched into his story. He talked about crossing paths with the banished Prince Zuko, the Agni Kai he lost. As he recounted his failures to her, his face reddened, though she couldn't tell if it was anger or embarrassment. Maybe both. Then he mentioned the Avatar. That Zuko had found him and they all had a confrontation on Crescent Island. Lien's eyes widened. She struggled to keep the questions from flowing out of her sealed lips until he'd finished speaking.

"The Avatar escaped the temple and I…" He left the rest unsaid, but his shuddering body and sleepless eyes told her everything he couldn't. "My reputation is sure to take a hit from these recent failures. I would understand if you want to call off our engagement."

Lien waited a moment to be sure he was finished. She set her tea cup on the table then rested her thin fingers on the back of his hand. "When you found out that I can't bend, I thought you would leave me. But you didn't. Everyone else was so ready to dismiss me. Only Jing Fei saw me as a person, rather than an object. For years, I lived like that. And then you chose me."

Zhao met her gaze and she smiled. Her hand moved to cup his cheek, encouraging him to maintain the eye contact.

"At first, I was scared," she continued. "I thought your plans for me would be worse than being imprisoned. Over time, you showed me that I was wrong. You cared for me after I was attacked. My own mother didn't even check on me." She hesitated, unconsciously leaning closer to him. "I guess what I'm trying to say is… there's more to you than your career and success. I can see it, even if you can't. I never thought a man like you would want me the way I am. So, I want you to know that I want you too, no matter if you fail or not."

His fingers entwined in the hair at the back of her head and he pulled her mouth to his. Eyes slipping shut, she moved her lips against his in a slow rhythm, matched his pace. It was gentle, languid. The hunger from their previous kisses was still there but subdued. A low burning flame of passion rather than an unconquerable blaze.

He left her lips and trailed kisses down her cheek, along her jawline, stopping at the high collar of her dress. Lien moaned softly. He'd never kissed her that way before. Her eyelashes fluttered as she leaned her head back, giving him more access to her neck. He pushed the fabric aside. His lips continued their descent until he reached the sensitive skin where her neck sloped into shoulder. Lien's body trembled as he bit down gently. She grabbed the back of his head, feeling his still-damp hair, pulling him closer.

Excitement buzzed along each of her nerves. Kiran's description of her wedding night had been dry in comparison to the real thing. She hadn't expected it to feel so good. Even just the kissing and nibbling had filled her with nervous jitters and a heat she hadn't felt before. It pooled between her legs, driving her to bring his face back to hers and kiss him hard.

Her hands wandered over his chest. She took her time, tracing his muscles under his thin shirt, keeping her touches light when she passed over his wound. Although she hadn't seen it, she was sure it was a burn from the volcanic incident at the temple. Or maybe from his Agni Kai with Prince Zuko. But she didn't want to think about any of that. She only wanted to focus on Zhao. She wanted to make him feel as good as he made her feel.

Their lips parted and she moved down to his neck, feathering light kisses along his tanned skin. She panted against him as she copied what he had done before. Her teeth grazed his collarbone. He drew in a sharp breath. Anticipation gathered in the air between them until the atmosphere felt heavy. She bit him gingerly at first, afraid she would hurt him. But his approving moans encouraged her and she added more pressure. Sucking on his neck while her hands roamed over his back. His hands had settled on her waist, keeping her close but not exploring.

She licked over the skin she had sucked on, noticing how it had already turned a deep shade of purple. Her heart pounded unsteadily; her chest heaved. The need she had felt earlier only intensified. She wanted him. Almost more than she'd wanted anything else in her life.

"Touch me." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Zhao hesitated.

"What's wrong?" she asked. She kissed up his neck then pecked his lips. Frowning, she pulled back to study his expression. "I thought you wanted me."

"I do," he said quickly. He caressed her cheek. "But it's been a long time since I've done this and you're a virgin. It might be in your best interest to wait until we're married…"

"Oh…" She stood and backed away from him.

"Lien," he said, clambering to his feet. He put his back to her while he adjusted his trousers. When he was able, he followed her to the door. "Why are you so upset? I'm trying to take care of you, protect you from–"

"If you want me, why won't you take me?" she demanded. The words tumbled from her thoughts into open air before she could stop them.

"You want me to take you?" Then, before she could reply, "Fine."

He shoved her against the wall, pinning her slender wrists above her head with one hand. The other gripped her hip hard enough to leave bruises. Lien squeaked. Even though she knew he was only trying to scare her, her waning lust for him was rekindled. The feeling of his body pressing against hers, the rough way he handled her… It was enough to make her lightheaded with desire.

His lips crashed down on hers again, stealing her breath, tongue darting into her mouth. He licked along her teeth, flicked against her tongue, then he pulled away. Lien gasped for air as he released her wrists. Her arms fell around his shoulders, preventing him from leaving her. She wanted to savor every touch, every emotion he stirred in her before he decided he'd pushed far enough. With one fist holding on to the back of his shirt, she moved her other hand to his arm, stroking and squeezing his bicep.

"Do you want to move somewhere more comfortable?" he asked, voice low. "You'd enjoy it more in bed than against a wall."

"Y-yes."


	15. Chapter 15

The door thudded behind her with such finality that she shuddered. Her lover shot a dart of flame towards his desk. It struck the wick of the candle perfectly. The candlelight was meager in comparison to the jet of fire that birthed it. Just enough for what they were about to do.

She waited by the foot of the bed, watching Zhao discard his shirt. The bandages embracing his chest stood in sharp contrast to the dimness. So white that they almost glowed. Like her dream. Her eyes dropped to her hands, examining them for that eerie luminescence or those cuts that had been too straight, too audacious to be anything but intentional. The memory set her heart beating harder. She almost swore she caught a glimpse of blood on her wrist but she blinked and it was gone.

Zhao took her hands in his, seemingly unaware of her focus and fear. Or perhaps he had noticed, assumed it was just nerves. He pressed kisses into her palms and up her arms, over the fabric of her dress. She closed her eyes. Muscles relaxed at his gentle touches, though her heart still throbbed against her breastbone. He released her hands and fingered the buttons on the back of her dress, still kissing her neck, jaw, and cheek.

Just as he'd undone one button, he pulled away. Lien's eyes opened and she found herself smiling at Zhao's flushed face. She wasn't sure why he'd stopped, but seeing him so flustered, so full of lust for her, sent giddy tremors down her torso.

"May I?" He gestured vaguely at her gown.

"Yes, of course," she said. She turned her back to him, giving him easier access to the buttons.

In moments, the dark green fabric pooled around her ankles. Beneath it, she'd worn a loose cream-colored shift that reached just above her knee. It was the most modest of the undergarments Kiran had purchased for her. She almost wished she'd chosen the more revealing version that morning, but a flood of self-consciousness whisked that thought away immediately. Her arms wrapped around herself.

Zhao waited, eyes analyzing every detail of her body. The dress pulled tight around her breasts but hung loose everywhere else. He wanted to rip it off of her, see everything that would soon be his. But he called upon his reserves of self-control and stayed still. Her body language betrayed her nervousness. He couldn't touch her when she was practically shaking.

"We don't have to-"

"It's okay," she said, dropping her arms, leaving herself open to him. She sat down on his bed and gestured for him to join her.

He sat beside her, placing a hand on her thigh. Her skin was soft beneath his calloused fingers. Distantly, he wondered if he was making the right decision. But he stifled all his negative thoughts. He wouldn't be able to please her if he couldn't focus. The desire to just take her burned through his nerves and he struggled to keep his touches gentle. His hand left her thigh, grabbing her chin instead and pulling her lips to his.

She responded with more passion than he'd been expecting. Her arms embraced him, nails clawing at his back in an attempt to bring them closer together. His skin was so warm against hers, she wanted to pull him over her like a blanket.

Zhao broke the kiss. "Lay down."

Lien's eyes widened as she followed his instruction. Was he already going to…? Her back hit the mattress and head sunk into the pillow. But she couldn't concentrate on the comfort, couldn't concentrate on anything. She felt her mind freezing until her only thought was a desperate plea. _Don't hurt me_. The bed moved as Zhao shifted into a kneeling position beside her.

He caressed her shoulders, arms, and sides. The first touch made her cringe, but with each subsequent one, she found her muscles relaxing. She watched his face. His eyes were fixated on her body, fingers gliding across every part of her torso within his reach. Except her breasts. He had yet to reach for them. She wondered if he was waiting for her permission or if he was only trying to tease. Either way, she grabbed his wrist and guided it upwards from her stomach.

"If you want something, ask for it." Though the words were stern, he laughed as he said them.

"Ah, yes," she said, blushing. "I… Sorry."

He hesitated, hand motionless on her breast. "And I suppose I should say it now… Stop me if you're uncomfortable or in pain or for any other reason. It's… important to me that we both enjoy this."

A vague memory flashed in her mind, but she pushed it away so quickly that she couldn't recognize any of the details. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak clearly. He leaned down and kissed her. Just a peck before he continued to explore his partner.

Lien sighed as her eyelids slipped shut. She couldn't keep track of each touch, only the sensations they produced. It was like settling into a bath, warming her, sending tingles through her legs and arms as she acclimated to the heat. But this heat wouldn't go away. It grew inside her, urgent. Her thighs parted just enough to accommodate his hand as it roamed beneath her skirt.

She gasped. Her body had never been touched that way before. Not even by herself during her imprisonment. And now her subconscious acted out in confusion, not knowing how to react to all the feelings. Pleasure and fear and self-loathing and want. It was too much. She sat up and drew her knees to her chest. She held herself, took deep breaths until she calmed down enough to try again.

Zhao had withdrawn his hand as soon as he recognized her panic. He stroked her hair, mumbling reassurances. When she sat up, he didn't try to hug her. His instinct demanded he comfort her but he convinced himself to give her space. After all, he was the problem here. She couldn't still want him. He was surprised she'd ever wanted him in the first place. Internally, he scolded himself for pushing too far. How had he let this continue? He should have known that she wouldn't be able to handle it.

"I'm sorry," Lien said, straightening out her legs. "Please keep going."

He didn't question her. If she wanted to give him another chance, he wouldn't try to convince her otherwise. But this time, he'd have to be more careful. He supported himself with his left hand braced against the bed as he leaned over her, trailing kisses down her neck. His other hand fondled her breasts.

She arched her back, encouraged him. Back in familiar territory, her earlier anxiety melted away. And he'd seemed sensitive to her needs. It made her want to reward him. Maybe it wasn't right to think about her body like that, as if she was just a prize to be won. But her parents never taught her to value herself. If anything, they used her for their own benefit and encouraged others to do the same.

Zhao pressed kisses down her chest, over her covered breasts, onto her stomach. Then he returned to capture her lips. Her mind intruded with those thoughts about body image and the abuse she'd suffered. He wasn't like her parents, right? Was she good enough for him? She needed a distraction. She couldn't just lay back with her head full of negativity. So she reached for him, rubbing his muscular upper arms, his chest, his back. He was already beginning to feel familiar to her fingers. It made her smile into their kiss.

While she was distracted, he ventured between her legs once more. Her breath hitched and muscles stiffened. But only for a moment before the pleasure washed over her. It hit her like she'd run head first into a wall, leaving her head spinning. The next few minutes rushed past her. All her attention had been seized by the dizzying heat he'd caused within her that she couldn't notice anything else until he stopped. She whimpered at the loss.

At some point, he'd lost the rest of his clothes. Her face and chest broke out in bright pink splotches as she realized that she could now see all of him. Tension threaded the air between them. She tried her best not to stare, but her gaze kept drifting downward. The sight stirred feelings in her that she couldn't explain. She just knew she was ready.

"Zhao, take me."

He couldn't reply verbally. He'd spent their moment of silence doubting himself again only for her to give him consent unprompted. Her voice – breathless, soft – was so sure. All the failures he'd experienced recently disappeared in its wake. It was like status, wealth, and reputation meant nothing to him anymore. In that room, his mind only had space for Lien.

Lien spread her legs for him and waited as he moved between them. She could barely breathe. The anticipation ate away at her calm, crawling beneath her skin until she squirmed.

"Stay still." He kissed her forehead.

He pushed her skirt up to her waist, exposed her. His fingers stroked across her bare skin, relishing the way she gasped and blushed beneath him. All the things he wanted to do to her flashed through his mind. But he had to stop himself. She wasn't ready for everything – he knew she wasn't – and yet, he pressed against her entrance, poised to take her. He paused, recognizing it was his last chance to be responsible and stop this. Then his hips shifted, slowly sheathed himself inside her, inch by inch.

Lien bit her lip hard to hold in her scream. Tears burned her eyes. But they didn't fall, she wouldn't let them. She wrapped her arms around him, nails digging into his back, forehead pressed into his shoulder. The pain nearly overwhelmed her. She breathed through it, heavy, shuddering breaths. His free hand caressed her side, her thigh. As the pain reduced to a bearable degree, she felt the stirrings of a tentative connection. A shaky thread, easily broken.

When he was fully inside her, he didn't move again. He just focused on kissing her, touching her, doing anything he could to ease her discomfort. She closed her eyes. Letting her mind drift back to their foreplay. Part of her wanted to stop. It couldn't imagine sex ever feeling good for her. But the other part, the majority, wanted to continue. If she could regain her arousal, it wouldn't be so bad. Kiran had enjoyed her first time, so why shouldn't she?

The pain faded to a dull ache and she decided she didn't want to wait any longer.

"Do it. I'm ready."

"If you need to stop, tell me."

She agreed a bit hastily but he assumed her nerves were at fault. He started slow, steady. Her whimpering drove spikes through his chest. But he kept going. He had to trust that she'd speak up if she needed to. Gradually, the whimpers turned to moans and the pressure of her nails in his back eased.

Her head leaned back into the pillow. Although the experience had turned warm and pleasurable again, she had trouble staying in the moment. Unwanted thoughts swept her away, breaking their connection. She contemplated what this all meant for their relationship. Maybe she'd rushed into something she hadn't been prepared for and now he would think of her differently. He might expect sex from her whenever he asked for it due to her willingness today. She didn't think he was like that. But that nagging part of her continued to suggest she had no idea what kind of person she was marrying.

Their intimacy felt like it was happening to someone else, each thrust and loving, praising word he uttered. She could feel him and hear him. But there was a wall between her and her body. As if she was only a spectator, listening in, imagining how the sex felt. The detachment stretched on until his words of reassurance dissolved into primal grunts. His thrusts turned hard and uneven. With one final thrust, he pushed as deep as he could, finishing inside her. He stilled.

Zhao kissed her softly then pulled out. The sudden emptiness jolted her out of her thoughts. Guilt settled in her stomach as she watched him. He was still panting, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. And she felt so distant. She struggled against her numb legs until she stood beside the bed.

"I… I need to wash up," she said. She adjusted her underclothes, rolling the skirt down to cover herself. Her eyes flicked down to her dress, crumpled on the floor. But she decided to leave it.

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek then fled the room. Immediately, she bumped into a servant. The boy blushed and stumbled over a greeting, trying to pretend he hadn't been listening for the last few minutes. She couldn't feel embarrassed; there was no energy left in her for emotions.

"Take me to the bath, please."

He obliged without another word, seemingly stunned by her aloofness.

A bath had already been drawn for her. Steam floated languidly through the room as a young firebender girl worked to keep the water warm. Lien thanked the servants then dismissed them. Once they disappeared into the hall, she took off her shift, climbed into the tub. The hot water claimed her physical pain. But the longer she sat, alone with her mind, the harder it became to ignore the emotional damage. She'd assumed she had nothing left, yet there were tears now mixing with her bath.

She cried until the water turned cold. Then she dried off, threw on her shift, and left the room. Legs still unreliable, she pressed her hand against the wall as she made her way back to Zhao.

He'd gotten dressed while she'd been gone and was now at his desk, working on some sort of document by the weak candlelight. The wax was running low by then. She crept toward the bed where he'd laid out her gown for her. Whatever he was looking at was sure to be important. The thought of disturbing him made her heart do flips in her chest.

She put her dress on, arms heavy, sluggish. Zhao turned in his chair, observing her.

"It's late. You should stay."

"Kiran is expecting me. She'll come to fetch me if I don't go and we both know that won't be pleasant." She heard herself laugh from a distance.

"I'll take you to her then. Just give me a few minutes."

She agreed, but as soon as he'd returned to his work, she stepped out of the room. She needed space. Everything that had happened left her feeling sore, emotionally and physically. The door to the outside opened at her slightest push. Warm air greeted her as the stars and moon shone down on the lawn. It was a beautiful night for a mind-clearing stroll.

With the assassination attempt merely a distant memory, she left Zhao's house on her own.

 **A/N: Sorry for the late update! This chapter was so hard for me to write. I've never written a detailed sex scene before and drawing from my own experience brought up a lot of painful memories. So as much as I wanted to make Lien completely enjoy her first time, I just couldn't. I kind of think it was more realistic that she didn't, though, considering how her parents treated her. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know if there's anything I can do to improve any future scenes like this. Next update should be posted on Wednesday. Thanks for all the support!**


	16. Chapter 16

"You forgot your knife." The sharp voice was accompanied by the tinny sound of her dagger hitting the cobblestones behind her.

She spun around to face Zhao and glanced down. The blade pointed at her like an accuser. It was so close, an inch more and he would've hit her foot. She crouched down, picked it up. Maybe she should have felt nervous. But only a low anger simmered inside her.

"Thanks." She turned, prepared to leave, but he grabbed her wrist.

"I told you to wait," he said as he twisted her arm. She cried out and he released her with a quick glance about their surroundings. He continued on in a softer tone, keeping his hands clenched at his sides. "You need to be more careful. Last time you were alone at night, you got hurt…"

She scoffed. "Don't put your hands on me like that then pretend to care about my safety. Or wait, let me guess, it's only okay when you hurt me. No one else is allowed to because I belong to you."

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She brushed them away as if they burned her and opened her mouth to continue her scolding. Zhao's eyes were downcast as he listened. The words died on her tongue. Was this shame? She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him look that way before, even when he'd apologized for the first time. Her body shuddered at the reminder. He'd been violent with her before, many months ago when they were first courting.

She remembered the feeling of the wall beneath her fingers as he shoved her against it. The memory drained her, leaving her swaying on her feet. Shadows appeared around the edges of her vision, her stomach ached. It had been at least 24 hours since she'd eaten. It caught up to her at the worst possible moment. All her energy to fight, to argue, vanished.

"I'm sorry that I've treated you poorly," Zhao said when he realized she wouldn't say anything more. Slowly, he reached for her. His hands encircled her waist, holding her to his chest as if she was a wounded animal. "I was just worried about you and I expressed it in a harmful way. Please forgive me."

She nodded, clinging to him, arms trembling. Everything that had happened in the last few hours – the fighting, the sex, all the associated emotions – crashed down on her. Her consciousness wavered. She jerked back into her body but soon began fading again.

"Lien? Lien, are you alright?"

She could hear him calling her name, feel him giving her body a slight shake. But she couldn't find the strength to respond. Her mind was fuzzy and that numbness spread down to her legs. She leaned into the warmth of her fiancé, letting her eyes shut. When she next opened them, she was laid in a carriage with her head resting in his lap. She blinked and woke up in Kiran's guest room.

The bedside table was laden with a steaming cup of tea and a plate of roast duck. Its smell turned her stomach. Her only thought was that she had to get away from it before she threw up. She vaulted out of the bed. When she landed, pain seared through her thighs, so intense that she screamed and collapsed.

In an instant, the door was thrown open and Kiran appeared at her side. The older woman hugged her. "Shhh, little one, it's okay. You're safe now. He's gone."

As the pain subsided, her head cleared enough to speak. "What are you talking about? What happened?"

Kiran frowned and the expression stuck. She helped Lien back into bed before answering, "Zhao confessed everything to me. What he did to you… I'm so sorry. I should have done more to protect you from him." The tears she'd been trying to hold back overflowed and spilled down her cheeks.

"No, Kiran, it's not like that." Lien hesitated, unsure of how much to disclose. She couldn't be certain if the woman's sadness was genuine. "He was a perfect gentleman to me. Didn't do anything unless I asked him to. I was just overwhelmed afterward."

"He was acting so strangely, I just assumed… I'm sorry I got all worked up over nothing." Kiran giggled a bit as she wiped away her tears with a silken handkerchief.

"I'm glad you care," she said.

And she meant it. Ever since Jing Fei left for the Earth Kingdom colonies all those months ago, Kiran had always made sure that Lien never felt alone, never wanted for anything. She was the closest thing Lien had to a real friend. It had taken a few weeks to stop feeling like the woman had ulterior motives. Even now she caught an occasional chill of suspicion. But as their cohabitation stretched on, she found herself confiding more and more in Kiran. After all, if anyone could understand what she was going through, it was the admiral's wife.

"So, not to be intrusive but… Tell me everything."

Lien couldn't stifle her laughter. She pulled the blankets of the bed around her as if that could protect her from the embarrassment. And yet, she found herself easily relaying the experience to Kiran. It just flowed from her mouth like a waterfall. All the things Zhao did and said. The pleasure and uncertainty and distance.

Kiran listened without a single interruption. At times, she smiled or nodded thoughtfully, but she didn't speak until she was sure Lien had finished. "It's natural to be confused, especially considering your past. I'm sure your parents never bothered to speak with you about these things."

A soft warmth bloomed in Lien's chest. It felt good to be understood. She leaned back against the pillow, letting go of the blankets as she listened to her companion's voice.

"I'll have to apologize to him when I see him next. I may have yelled a bit," she said, lips twitching in a small smirk. "Well, a lot, actually. I'm surprised it didn't wake you. Anyway, it's only been a few hours since you arrived. You should try to rest some more."

She gracefully pushed herself off of Lien's bed and swept toward the door. As her hand touched upon the knob, she hesitated. The moonlight shone through the window, bathing her slim figure in silver. Even her chin-length hair caught some of the rays and, for an instant, looked as if she'd gone grey. She turned back to Lien. Her lips pursed but she said nothing.

"Kiran? What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," she said quickly. "Just… be careful. You really don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Then she was gone, leaving Lien alone with her thoughts as she struggled to drift off to sleep. The ominous warning echoed through her mind for the rest of the night. At times, the apprehension translated into broken dreams that she couldn't remember once the sun awoke her.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched. It had been a hard night from all the tossing and turning. Her shoulder ached. She eased herself out of bed, suspicious of her own legs. But the pain she'd felt before was absent. Still wary, she changed out of the green dress she'd fallen asleep in. This morning, the brighter colors drew her in and she selected a traditional red gown with black accents. She admired herself in the full-length mirror.

Her hair made her frown. The natural curls were matted on one side and frizzy on the other. She tugged a comb through her locks until her scalp ached but that only helped the tangles. With a groan, she pulled all her hair into a severe bun then went downstairs for breakfast.

On her way out, she'd noticed someone had removed the plate of duck from the night before. She could still detect its savory scent in the air. Her stomach growled.

"Good morning, Kiran," she said as she entered the kitchen.

The admiral's wife looked up from the tea she was brewing and smiled. "Good morning, Lien. Would you like some tea? It's jasmine."

"No, thank you," she said. She fetched an apple from a basket of fruit on the counter. "I want to head out as early as I can."

Kiran frowned. "Is that all you're having? I know you didn't eat yesterday… You should be taking better care of yourself." At times like these, her true age shone through her youthful demeanor and expert makeup. Her face creased with worried wrinkles. Like a mother watching her child swim too far into the ocean.

"I'm saving room for lunch." Lien giggled – a habit she must have picked up from Kiran. "Big plans, you know?"

"Oh. With Zhao?"

"Yes." She paused to eat her apple. Once finished, she tossed the core. "Well, can't keep him waiting. I'll see you for dinner."

Before Kiran could protest, she left the kitchen. As soon as she was outside, the giddiness that had been bubbling in her stomach retreated. It was replaced by a sharp, throbbing guilt. She wasn't sure why she'd lied. Maybe it was because she didn't want to be stopped. Or perhaps the sudden display of motherly affection scared her. Having another sister to look out for her was fine, but a new mother… She couldn't replace her biological one, no matter how much they resented each other.

She walked with purpose, treading a path that was growing increasingly familiar to her. But instead of going all the way to the library, she stopped about halfway. The place where she'd been attacked. In the past few months, she'd avoided this stretch of cobblestone as much as possible. She added a few minutes to her commute to the library just so she didn't have to feel that eerie prickling under her skin. But today, she needed to know if there was anything left. Any trace of her attacker's identity.

A few passersby gave her quizzical glances as she crouched down and examined the path. She brushed her fingers against each stone. The absurdity of it all caused her to stop and reflect. What was the point? Surely, any evidence had been trampled by months of foot traffic or burned away by Zhao when he'd rescued her. She grimaced.

And what good would it do to figure out the identity of a one-time assassin? There hadn't been any further attempts on her life, nor had she noticed any spies or other red flags. It was probably all a misunderstanding that had led to her being stabbed. She was a nobody, after all, and she always would be. No matter who she married or what she accomplished in life. She didn't need recognition, didn't really want it either. How could she adjust to a life where all eyes were on her when she'd grown up almost completely alone?

She stood up and brushed the dust off her skirt. It would be a waste of a day if she spent it looking for clues that had never existed. So, she found herself heading back down the path toward Kiran's, unsure of how to proceed. She ought to visit her parents; it had been far too long since they'd seen each other. Yet she couldn't bring herself to face them, not when they never cared to check if she'd survived the assassination.

They didn't want her and her need for them had dwindled to nothing. She had Zhao and Kiran now. And Jing Fei, even though her older sister never responded to the letters she'd sent. Deep down, she knew she'd been disowned by the only person who'd cared for her as a child. But she wasn't ready to admit that. So, she continued to write each week, hoping that one day, she'd get a reply.

"Lien!"

The voice shattered her melancholy thoughts. She looked up to see an unfamiliar woman rushing toward her. Sable gown fluttering around her, she swooped down on Lien. She cringed at the invasion of personal space. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to run. Or at least take a few steps out of the stranger's reach.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Her voice quivered.

"Oh, no you don't," the woman said, beaming. But her eyes – stone grey in color – were so intense that even the jovial expression couldn't soften them. "But there's no need for fear. I'm Feng Mian, a friend of Kiran's."

"Nice to meet you," she said, letting her shoulders relax. She hadn't realized she'd been cowering. It was still an instinctual reaction when someone she didn't know approached her.

"I had an idea that Kiran said I should recruit you for." Feng Mian glanced around them. She scowled at the number of onlookers. "However, it's a very private matter. Why don't we go discuss it where we won't be overheard?"

Lien hesitated. She remembered Kiran's warning from the night before. Be careful. But she'd definitely been alluding to Zhao, especially if she'd asked Feng Mian to seek her out. There wasn't any danger here. She'd said she was a friend. Lien smiled a bit and nodded. "Do you have someplace in mind?"

"Yes. Now come along, little one. It isn't far." Her narrow skirt flared out as she spun around.

Lien followed in silence.


	17. Chapter 17

"Hello, Kiran. I'm Fan Li, Lien's sister. Is she… uh… here?" Fan Li cringed at the uncertainty in her voice as she faced off with the aristocrat clad in blindingly blue silk. She hated the way her smile faltered and her hands trembled. In the wake of a real woman, she knew she was nothing. Kiran could crush her on a whim. And no one would care.

But the older woman just tilted her head to one side. No threatening gestures. The customary smile and a flash of genuine curiosity graced her proud features. When she finally spoke, Fan Li couldn't help but be captivated by the melodic sound.

"No. I'm sorry. She went out with her betrothed for the day."

"Oh…"

Kiran struggled with the urge to close the door on the forlorn girl and her own natural inclination toward pity. She leaned on the doorframe, opening up a small space for Fan Li to pass through. "I suppose you can wait inside until she gets back. This seems important."

"That's alright, but thank you. I'll go look for her. Please excuse me," Fan Li said with a stiff bow. She'd regained tentative control over her body but her voice was still weak.

She whirled around without another word and retreated. Though she didn't know where to find her estranged sister, she felt compelled to keep searching. She'd already checked the harbor and the marketplace. Perhaps she ought to look around Zhao's residence. Her blood turned icy as she remembered the last time she'd paid the commander a visit. He'd embarrassed her so thoroughly… Yet her chagrin didn't make her boil like it used to. She just felt cold now.

Things were different back at home since Lien and Jing Fei had left. All her parents' expectations fell on her. There was no one else to take the blame for their mistakes and shortcomings. Just her. She was pushed to train harder, constantly compared to her sisters. Why couldn't she be as successful as the older two? A teacher and the wife to a commander. And what was she? Nothing.

So she upped her firebending sessions from four hours a day to eight. Her flames had deteriorated noticeably. No longer white-hot, but feeble licks that could scarcely put a mark on her targets. The disappointment of her father was palpable.

She blinked away tears as she made her way to Zhao's. This was how Lien had felt for years, she knew it. Dejected, shunned, the scapegoat. She'd always thought Lien deserved it, but now she wasn't so sure. After all, Fan Li had been treated as the ideal child for many years and she could think of nothing that had caused her fall from favor. They told her she was a failure. But she hadn't changed any of her behaviors or interactions.

By then, she arrived on the commander's doorstep. She had planned on sneaking around, peeking through windows to see what she could discover on her own. But carrying the weight of her new lot in life left her too exhausted to bother. Her knuckles beat on the door for a few seconds.

The door swung open to reveal Zhao glaring down at her. She shrunk back, throat constricting until she could only choke out a few words.

"Where's Lien?"

"Kiran's." He slammed the door in her face.

The inconsistency sparked in her mind, bright enough to break through the nervousness. She knocked again, hard, insistent. In the morning, she knew her knuckles would be bruised but the thought came and went, leaving almost no impression.

Zhao opened the door with a sigh. "In case I didn't make myself clear the last time we met-"

"Lien isn't at Kiran's," Fan Li said, sticking her foot forward so he couldn't shut her out again. "I checked there earlier and she said Lien was with you."

"Well then she lied," he said. "She must not like you. Can't say I blame her."

"That's not true!" She took a deep breath to calm herself down. Her entire being was nearly consumed by the pinpricks of anxious energy. But she stopped it just in time. "She offered to let me stay with her until Lien returned. I know she believed everything she told me. I know it…"

He frowned, considering her words. Of course, it could have all been a scheme to get his attention. But he sensed something was different about the girl. She wasn't the conniving, ruthless noble that he remembered. She really was just a child, wasn't she? He sighed again. If she had ulterior motives, he swore on the spirits that he would make her pay.

"Alright." His voice softened a bit, like he'd given in and accepted that he was about to waste a few hours. "Where have you looked for her?"

"Here, Kiran's, the harbor, and the market," she said. "The last place I can think of is the library."

"Then we'll start there." He grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her down the path.

She shook herself free of his grasp, choosing to walk a few paces behind him. Squinting against the noon sun, she wondered how she'd ever considered subjecting herself to a life with this man. He was brisk, unsympathetic, and physically abusive. She rubbed her arm where his fingers had dug into her skin. His ambition and status weren't enough to distract her from the negative aspects of his personality. Poor Lien…

The thought didn't shock her like it used to. She was growing accustomed to feeling bad for her sister. A decade long imprisonment and the immediate transition into a union with Zhao… It was horrific to think about. She must have been so scared and Fan Li certainly made things worse for her by treating her with scorn instead of love.

They arrived at the library after several minutes. Zhao approached the librarian's assistant at the front desk while Fan Li hung back. There was no reason to involve herself. She wasn't sure she could even say what color her sister's hair was, let alone describe her to the point that a stranger would recognize her. Zhao gestured with his hand, surely indicating his fiancée's height. The assistant looked lost in thought for a moment then frowned and shook his head.

Zhao cursed loud enough to draw startled glances from nearby patrons. He stormed out and Fan Li was compelled to apologize for him. She hung her head as she followed. If she stayed quiet, she hoped she would avoid becoming the target of his frustration.

When she looked up again, they were back at Kiran's. His fist beat her door until she answered with a huff of annoyance. But her eyebrows furrowed and face paled the moment she saw Zhao and Fan Li.

"Where's Lien?" she asked, skipping her usual pleasantries.

"When did she leave this morning? Did she say anything to you?" He didn't waste time answering her. They both knew he wouldn't be there if he knew where Lien was.

"This morning at sunrise. She mentioned she had plans with you but assured me that she'd be back for dinner." Kiran wrung her hands then glanced behind her. A small group of servants had formed to watch the commotion unfold. She glared at them until they scattered. In an instant, she turned her focus back to her unexpected guests, face a mask of worry. "You don't think…?"

"She's not in any of her usual places and she lied to you," Fan Li said, crossing her arms over her chest. "It sounds bad. I suppose she could be working on some secret scheme, though it seems more likely that she's gotten herself into trouble."

* * *

When Lien regained consciousness, it was too dark to see much of anything. She was in a small, windowless room, that much was clear. The floor pressed into her knees, hard and cold. But she could barely feel it, numb as she was from sitting in the same position for so long. Her wrists flexed against the ropes that bound them. The material scratched her skin mercilessly.

Though she tried to shift into a more comfortable position, her legs refused to cooperate. She whimpered – the only sound in the oppressive darkness aside from her heartbeat. The hollow beats thudded irrhythmically as she tried to remain calm. Her thoughts threatened to spiral out of control but she countered it with going over everything she could remember. Even if she wasn't sure how long ago that was or if that woman had told the truth or… No. She threw that train of thought off its tracks.

"My name is Lien," she said aloud. It helped her focus, helped keep the fear away. "This morning, I met Feng Mian. She asked me to follow her and…" Pain seared through her head as she tried to think beyond that.

"My name is Lien." She started over. "This morning, while investigating the attempt on my life, I met Feng Mian. She knows Kiran. Somehow. She asked me to follow her to discuss something."

The pain returned, settling in her temples and the back of her head. But she pushed on. "We walked together down a smaller side street. We… We were ambushed…" The effort of working through her mental block caused her to drop her chin onto her chest. Sweat trickled down her forehead. Her back ached from holding herself up. She wanted to just slump forward and let go of this grim reality.

What happened next? She pushed against the wall in her mind, probing gently at first. But her patience was wearing thin. Resisting the urge to slam it until it broke, she backed off. There was plenty of time for her to try again later. She didn't know how long she would be locked up. It could be days or weeks. Not that it mattered much anymore; she had no way of telling time.

Light bathed her as the door across from her opened. She glanced up but it was too bright for her, even though she squinted. A shadow fell upon her face, dimming the light that had shone through her closed eyelids. She kept her eyes shut.

"Hello, Lien. I hope your lodging has been agreeable to you. Just like you're accustomed to, right?" The woman giggled.

She recognized the voice immediately. "Feng Mian? What's going on? I thought…"

"Yes, I know. You thought I was attacked too. Try not to think about that too much, sweetie. You'll hurt yourself." She laughed again, surely thinking herself a comedian. Her fingers gripped Lien's chin and turned her head left, right, up, and down. Studying her. "I must admit I was surprised when I first saw you. I thought you'd be older."

Lien strained her neck as she tried to pull her face away from Feng Mian. She finally forced herself to open her eyes. The woman's nose was so close it could have stabbed her cheek. Blinking furiously against the near blinding light that surrounded her captor in a halo. Her teeth clenched, bit off a snarky reply.

"So young but already such a beauty." Feng Mian wrenched Lien's head further to the side, making the girl cry out. She snickered. "It's really a shame you got dragged into this."

"I know this is about my relationship with Zhao," she said. "But which side are you on? Are you trying to cripple him or do you want him for yourself?"

"Clever, clever."

Lien heard the echo of the slap, ricocheting off the empty walls, before she felt it. The force threw her to the floor. She couldn't catch herself with her bound hands. There was a crack as her head hit the stone. Her vision blurred. Cheek stinging, head throbbing, Feng Mian pulled her back onto her knees. When she straightened, a warm rivulet of blood oozed down the side of her face.

"But you're wrong," Feng Mian continued. "This is more complicated than you can understand. There are more than two sides at play here in the capital. Your naivety is advantageous to us so I won't explain any more than I already have. Just answer my questions truthfully and I won't hurt you. For now."

On the outside, Lien nodded soundlessly. But inside, her mind flew into overdrive, sorting through all the new information and designing the best answers to keep herself safe for as long as possible. She needed more time to come up with an escape plan. She couldn't count on anyone else to rescue her. It was her responsibility to save herself.

"Good." Her captor stood up and stepped out of Lien's reach. Just in case. "Now, tell me about this illness you have."

Perfect. A chance to present herself as weak, nonthreatening. "The family doctor diagnosed me with it when I was a child. Never named it – or they kept it from me to give me hope. I have fainting spells, chest pains, lethargy. My family joked that I must have a weak heart."

Feng Mian's eyes narrowed but she didn't pursue whatever suspicions she had. Instead, she opted for a complete subject change. "We've heard reports that you've been intimate with the commander. No, don't protest, I can see the guilt in your eyes. I know you've done it. Have you had your monthly bleed since then?"

"No. It's expected within a week or two."

"Then we'll be checking in." Feng Mian lips stretched into a sinister smile. "You'd best pray to a fertility spirit tonight. If you're with his child, we may choose to spare you."

She slipped out of the room and secured the door behind her, plunging the prisoner back into darkness.

Lien took a few deep breaths, trying to steady her frantic heart. There was so much for her to take in, so many clues as to what Feng Mian's goals were and what would happen if Lien couldn't escape. She didn't want to think about it, but the possibility of her murder loomed over her. Several days. That's all she had until her body would betray her. Unless she was pregnant. But even then, her abductors could decide to kill her and her unborn child.

But why? If the goal was to ruin Zhao's chances of… She groaned. She didn't know what his ultimate goal was. He'd never told her. It didn't matter so she set it aside. Giving her the option to live if she gave birth to his child didn't make sense if they wanted to destroy him. Were they just giving her hope so she wouldn't try anything? Or was something else happening?

Her head hurt. Whether from the first attack, the collision with the floor, or the strain of thinking so hard, she wasn't sure. It could have been a combination of all three. She sighed and decided to rest for a while before working on her escape.


	18. Chapter 18

Lien's eyes snapped open. By then, she'd adjusted to the darkness enough to see a small bowl of rice on the floor in front of her. Her stomach growled and she remembered that she hadn't eaten more than an apple since the morning of her abduction. It was beneath her dignity. But the pain couldn't be ignored any longer. She leaned down, even as her back protested, and fed from the bowl like an animal. The rice was cold mush, squishing between her teeth. She struggled to swallow.

Tears streamed down her cheeks yet she forced herself to keep eating. She needed to maintain her strength for her escape. Whenever that would be. If she didn't know what lay beyond the door, she couldn't prepare for it. Not that it mattered. The worst that would happen is they would kill her a few weeks sooner.

She choked her way through the final mouthfuls of rice then leaned back on her calves. They didn't register that her weight had settled back on them. It felt like she was sitting on someone else's legs rather than her own. With a grimace, she threw herself to the side, bashing her shoulder on the stone floor. But mercifully, she managed to keep her head off the ground. The last thing she needed was a brain injury. There was still a dull throbbing where she'd hit it earlier.

Unbearable tingles shot through her legs as soon as the pressure was off of them. Ticklish and stinging and so heavy she couldn't move them on her own. She fought back the urge to cry out. Of course, she'd experienced this before – reading in her bedroom in one position for too long – but it had never been this intense. And regaining feeling only made it worse. She allowed herself a low, drawn out groan. Head tilting back, whole body tensing until the tingling finally subsided. Like a million bugs crawling out of her skin and scuttling down between the cracks in the tiles.

For a minute, she just lay there, motionless. Then she rolled onto her back. Well, she wasn't quite able to manage it with her tied hands in the way. But she took the pressure off her bruised shoulder, at least. She stretched her legs out, flexing her ankles and feet. Her knees creaked like unoiled hinges.

As she worked the strain out of her leg muscles, she let her mind wander. She didn't think about anything in particular. But she needed the distraction from her dismal odds of survival. Mind flying between revisiting memories with Jing Fei and creating scenes from a happy ending with Zhao. If she ever made it out alive… She shook herself out of her imagination.

"Come on, focus," she whispered. "I have to get out of here."

She rolled back onto her side and shoved herself into a sitting position with her elbow. The movement caused the ropes to dig into her wrists. From there, she struggled to get back to her knees, but once she did, she crawled across the room to the door. The skirt of her gown tore from sliding across the uneven ground. Its ripping sound gave her an idea.

Reaching the wall, she pressed her back to it, searching for any rough edges. It took her a few minutes, but eventually she found a section where the wall had caved in a bit. The cave-in left the edge of one of the floor tiles exposed. She pressed the rope against it and pulled it back and forth. If she was lucky, she would be able to sever her bonds. Her hands would be a vital part of her escape. But she knew she could do it with just her legs as long as no one tried to stop her. The notion made her laugh – a pitiful sound, more like a cough than an expression of joy. She had to be guarded.

What could she do about that? How would she get around them? And even if she could get by them, she had no idea where she was. She could have been taken out of the capital. Would she ever find her way home?

"Hello?" She raised her voice so it could be heard through the thick wooden door. Maybe a guard would take pity on her. "Please, I…" The idea struck her like Feng Mian's open palm. "I need to use the bathroom."

"There's a bucket in the corner." Came the gruff reply.

"Excuse me? Sir, I am a lady," she said. She stopped trying to cut through the ropes adorning her wrists and turned all of her energy towards her current strategy. "Please take me to the proper facilities."

"Can't. Lady Feng Mian's orders."

She scowled. After a few calming breaths, she persisted. "Well, I suppose the good thing about being a prisoner is that I'm not responsible for cleaning this up. Wait a minute… Do you get to empty my bucket for me? Is that why you won't let me relieve myself with dignity? Creep."

The man huffed but the door swung open. "Fine. I'll take you to the bathroom. But be quick about it." He grabbed her by her upper arm and dragged her out into the hallway.

It wasn't as bright as she'd expected; there were no windows along the corridor. She wondered if they were in an underground bunker of some sort. Yet the wooden walls ornamented with paintings suggested that this was someone's home. Perhaps Feng Mian's? She stumbled alongside her guard, scrutinizing every detail of their journey. Her legs weren't as stable as she'd hoped.

She didn't know if she would ever get this chance again. Maybe she should just attempt an escape now. What use was it to memorize the halls if she could never leave that room again? So this was it. She breathed in through her nose and held it for a few seconds. Somehow, she had to avoid all possible mistakes.

The guard led her down a narrow staircase. As soon as they reached the final step, Lien noticed the first window she'd seen in the house. She glanced through the glass pane and gulped. They were so high up. Her heart nearly burst. She could handle a fall from a second story window, maybe even a third, but this… They had to be ten levels up, at least. So unless she could break free long enough to run down seven or eight flights of stairs, she knew she wouldn't be able to escape without help.

"Here it is," the guard said, gesturing to the door nearest them.

"Thank you." She struggled to open the door with her bound hands. With a sheepish smile, she turned her back to him. "Do you think you could… loosen these ropes?"

"Don't push it, bitch."

"I… I apologize…"

Before he could say anything else, she stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Trying to steady her heart, holding back fearful gasps. She had to push herself to take stock of everything in the room. If she could just get the ropes off and find something heavy to use as a weapon. A counter with a half full water basin, a rack of towels, and an empty tub. That was it. The edge of the counter looked sharp so she started there, grinding the rope against it and praying she'd frayed it in her previous attempt.

"Time's up. Get out here now."

She cursed under her breath but made no move to unlock the door. The longer it took her, the more suspicious her companion would become. "Just a moment more please, sir. The thought of you listening in is making me so nervous that I can't…"

He jiggled the knob and found it locked. His fists pounded against the door, voice raised to a higher tone to be heard above the banging. "Come out now before I kick this damn thing down."

The thuds grew louder and louder as she struggled with her bonds. Her heartbeat was so fast, she couldn't feel its individual pulses. They thumped along in pairs or sets of three. She wasn't sure but had no time to spare for counting. The door burst open. Brown eyes met coal black ones. Just as she registered her own shock, the rope snapped. She spun, grabbing the water basin. The rock was so heavy she almost couldn't lift it.

By then, the guard realized what she was doing. He sent a spear of fire flying toward her back.

* * *

Kiran sat on her cushion, head in her hands. Zhao knelt beside her while Fan Li paced by the front door. They'd searched most of the night without any new leads. No one had seen Lien that day and they had yet to find any physical evidence of where she'd gone. A sense of defeat hung heavy over the group. It seemed like they'd searched the entire capitol and the harbor village. Yet they'd come up with nothing. Right then, they had no idea how to proceed.

"We should get some rest," Zhao said at last. He placed a hand on Kiran's shoulder, rousing her from her thoughts. She nodded and rose wordlessly. "Reconvene here around noon."

"That's it?" Fan Li demanded. Her pacing stopped for half a moment before she resumed it. "You're just giving up on her? This is ridiculous. One would think that you of all people would be the most willing to give everything you have to find her."

"I'm not giving up." He scowled at her as he stood up. "I have finite energy to waste on aimless searching."

Fan Li's face reddened and she clenched her fists. "Then I must have more stamina than you." She took a few calming breaths, struggling with her emotions. "I can't go home until I know she's safe. It's like you don't even care about her."

The room turned hot as fire burst to life in Zhao's hands. He hadn't noticed it, focused as he was on Fan Li's smirking face. She formed her own knife blade flames and stood ready. Breaking free of her exhaustion, Kiran jumped between the pair. Her arms flung wide, voice raised.

"No firebending inside!"

Zhao extinguished his flame first, even as Fan Li seemed to debate whether or not she should follow Kiran's rules. In the end, she sighed and let her fire die. They continued to glare at each other but neither said a word. Kiran dropped her arms back to her sides. She knew the conflict wasn't over, yet she found herself stepping away. Maybe they could work it out peacefully if she gave them space. The thought almost made her laugh aloud.

"Well then." Kiran's normal, overly cheery tone returned as she clasped her hands behind her back. "I think it's time for me to get some sleep. You two dears know the way out, don't you?" And without waiting for a reply, she twirled around, heading for the stairs.

Zhao walked past Fan Li but before he could reach the door, she grabbed his arm. Before he could react, she fixed him with a stern look then released him. She turned pointedly back to the staircase. He crossed his arms and waited. Though he wasn't sure exactly what Fan Li had in mind, he knew she couldn't say it with Kiran within earshot. Perhaps she shared his suspicions. But then again, he recognized his inclination towards cynicism and not everyone understood. Even friendships turned threatening in an instant. Even Lien could… He couldn't complete the thought.

When the sound of Kiran's footsteps disappeared, Fan Li said, "You know, I find it odd that we've looked everywhere but here."

A kindred spirit after all. But he maintained his guard. "How do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "We've searched your home and mine, just in case Lien left anything behind. You offered unprompted. Kiran, on the other hand… She seemed uncomfortable with the suggestion and only let us look in Lien's room. Suspicious, isn't it?"

"And you want to go through the rest of the rooms without her permission, correct?"

"Yes." The determined glint in her eyes faded a bit. "Well… not all the other rooms. Just her study and anywhere else she might store valuable information. What if she arranged for Lien to be kidnapped then lied to us about everything?"

Zhao wanted to disagree, but he couldn't. Kiran could have taken advantage of their perceived friendship to further her own agenda. Even if he didn't know how abducting Lien would help her, he had to admit that it was a possibility. He planned to do the same one day. Plunge a knife into their turned backs at the right time and he'd have everything he'd ever wanted.

"Are you coming?" Fan Li was already at the staircase.

"Fine. I'll help you." He crossed the room to join her.

The pair crept up the stairs, wary of any old planks that could creak and give them away. Neither knew the layout of Kiran's home so they relied on opening each door they passed. With luck, they wouldn't stumble upon the bedroom before they located the study.

Fan Li hesitated at the last door, listening. She wondered if she would be able to hear the soft breaths of a sleeping woman through the wood. But all was silent and she couldn't just sit there all night, afraid of being caught. What was the worst thing that could happen, anyway? Zhao would lose a friend and a political advantage, sure. But Fan Li couldn't think of anything at stake for herself. She took a deep breath and turned the knob. It didn't move.

"It's locked," she whispered to Zhao. "If we break it…"

"Doesn't matter," he said, pushing her aside to get to the door. He examined the lock quickly then melted it with a small jet of flame from his fingertip. "We'll blame it on a servant if she asks us."

She nodded, more to herself than to him and followed him into the room. It didn't look like a traditional study. There was no desk or chair and only one bookshelf. She set aside her feeling of dread and began flipping through books. Some were filled with notes scrawled out across the pages in a free-flowing hand. Others were utterly empty. She read through some of the books, but they all seemed to be records of transactions. Though what items were exchanged, she could only imagine.

A page fell out of the book she'd been examining. She glanced over at Zhao before she picked it up. He was fully engrossed in his own investigation. Leaning down, she grasped the page and flipped it over. An ink portrait of a man. She didn't know who he was but something deep within her told her to keep it. So she folded it carefully and tucked it into her dress.

"Find anything?"

She jolted at the sound of Zhao's voice. "N-no…"

"Me neither. Let's get out of here before our luck runs out."


	19. Chapter 19

The air around her turned scorching hot as she held up the basin like a shield. Its water spilled onto the ground and any left over evaporated when the fire hit. She felt the once cold stone warming up in her hands. The guard's attacks were relentless, bursts of flames beating against her defenses with only a few seconds between. Each blast heated the basin more and more and, soon, it would be too hot to hold. She needed a plan. But her mind had gone blank with fear. This was it.

She ran forward until she body-slammed the guard. He fell into the hall with a yelp, back hitting the floor. Time skipped ahead a few seconds and she found herself staring down at a mess of blood and bone shards. The basin slipped from her fingers. Surely, it made a noise, but she couldn't hear it. The guard's skull had been crushed. She was responsible for it. She murdered him. Her stomach revolted and she took a moment to get sick in the washbasin.

When she finished, she crawled over to the corpse and searched it for anything she could use to escape. A set of keys and a small utility knife. As a firebender, he'd had no need for other weapons. She snatched the keys and the knife and stood up. Her legs wobbled, begging to rest. But she pushed on. Even as her head screamed at her and her body barely responded to her commands.

Everything was a blur. The thoughts of condemnation and self-loathing faded into silence as the repetitive scenery of the halls slid across her vision. She hadn't run into anyone during her sprint for freedom. Or maybe she had and she'd laid their bodies across the wooden floor like decorations. Either way, she'd kept up her pace, barreling down the corridors and staircases with little room in her mind to spare for stray thoughts. Her senses had dulled, leaving her with only her sight. It felt like she was nothing but legs racing and eyes seeing. Nothing else mattered.

She stopped by a window, glancing out as she caught her breath. Five stories up. She was so close. Just a few more floors and she'd be free. The door ahead of her opened. Her panting died abruptly as she came face to face with Feng Mian. She blinked and the rushing in her head slowed to almost nothing.

"I'm quite impressed," Feng Mian said, tone casual, arms crossed. "Now I can see why the commander chose you. Not just for your pretty face, it seems."

Lien pushed her shoulders back so she appeared taller. "Thank you."

"I suppose I have two options." She smirked as she drew out the sentence as long as possible. "I could kill you right where you stand. Or… I could recruit you to our cause. What do you think? You and me working side by side to… Oh. You'll have to excuse me. I'm getting ahead of myself."

"I'm not interested."

Feng Mian scoffed. "I don't think you understand the precariousness of your position. I'm offering you a chance to live and you're refusing me?"

"I understand perfectly," she said. "I would rather be dead than serving a cause I don't believe in. Even if our goals happen to align, I don't agree with your methods. I'll never join you."

Lien didn't know where her spark of confidence had come from. But she was glowing with the flame it incited and Feng Mian was fuming. The older woman's expression soured, lips pressed so thin, they nearly disappeared entirely.

"Die then." She kicked a wave of fire at Lien's feet.

She watched the flames licking across the floor, igniting some of the wooden panels as it went. Once it came too close, she launched herself into the air. The wave passed beneath her. Its heat singed the hem of her skirt. When she landed, she dodged several attacks, clumsy at first. But she soon recognized Feng Mian's pattern and was able to dance around her fire.

Even as frustration threatened to overwhelm her, Feng Mian lowered her fists, tried to provoke Lien. "It's really a shame I have to kill you. You're so young. Fifteen, maybe?" She giggled.

Her instinct was to correct Feng Mian but she held her tongue. The energy it would have taken to rebut was put to better use. Plotting her way out of this situation. There was the window – a fall from which would almost certainly be deadly – or back the way she'd come.

"Your parents sold you to him, didn't they?"

She nodded though her thoughts were far from Feng Mian's words. The woman was laughing again. There must have been something about the misfortune of others that she found hilarious. Lien still had the knife she'd stolen. Was there any chance she'd survive a one on one fight with a firebender? Probably not. Not when she only had the blade and not the element of surprise or that heavy water basin. And even if she could defeat Feng Mian somehow, she wouldn't be able to proceed. The fire would likely have eaten through the floorboards by then.

"He can't even protect his property," she continued when her laughter subsided. She lobbed another ball of flame at Lien. It only narrowly missed hitting the girl. "You're just a toy for him to play with. And he casts you aside when he's done, leaving you for others to damage as they please."

By then, thick black smoke began to fill the air between them. She could scarcely see Feng Mian. But it didn't matter. And neither did her words. She'd already decided. With the hilt of her dagger, she broke out the glass of the window beside her. Feng Mian's head turned. While she was distracted, Lien leapt forward. The flames wrapped around her legs as the floor caved in beneath her.

She landed on the floor below, knees bent, skin burning. Then she ran. In moments, Feng Mian would realize where she'd gone. She had to find the stairs soon. The fatigue she'd felt before vanished. Pure adrenaline coursed through her veins. Even the pain she knew she should be feeling couldn't reach her. When this was all over, whatever the outcome, she was sure her body would give out completely. And so, she pushed with everything she had.

Somewhere behind her, she could hear Feng Mian screaming and the roaring of new flames. Tears slipped down her cheeks. The air rushing by her dried the tracks they left behind. She reached the end of the corridor and threw open the door. Stairs leading down. She almost stopped to cry from sheer relief. But she had to keep going. If she paused, even for just a moment, she wouldn't be able to find the strength to continue her sprint.

When she reached the next staircase, she took a second to break off the doorknob. Hopefully, that would slow down Feng Mian a bit. Her thundering footsteps were constant companions to her own pounding feet. She slammed the door shut behind her and descended. Only two stories up now. Did she push her luck, find the final staircase? Or did she just jump? There was a window a few feet from her. She reached it in an instant and forced herself to stop. Her leaden legs shook as she peered out. Nothing soft to break her fall. But the street below was vaguely familiar to her. If she wasn't mistaken, it was near Zhao's home.

"Spirits help me," she whispered.

She couldn't make her legs move anymore. Her chest spasmed with barely suppressed sobs. The glass shattered easily when she hit it with her knife hilt. Above her, Feng Mian struggled with the door, beating the wood with her fists before seeming to remember that she could just burn it down. But that would still buy Lien some time. She took a deep breath then dove out of the window.

The wind gusted upward to greet her. It all happened so fast. She could only manage to get one leg beneath her quick enough to catch herself. Falling to one side, she lay for a moment. Shadows closed in around the edges of her vision and she fought to remain conscious. She scrambled back onto her feet. Her ankle ached but she limped onward. Part of her wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. But she was scared. What if everyone nearby was a part of Feng Mian's group? She didn't know how likely that was. It still terrified her.

Yet, if she didn't reach out, she knew she wouldn't make it. Her adrenaline was running low. It wouldn't carry her body much further.

"Help! Someone, please, help me!" She repeated the cry until her voice gave out.

Feng Mian materialized behind her, close enough to reach out and grab her shoulder. But she decided to walk alongside her for a minute. She needed time to gloat. "You're more of a fighter than I thought you were, but it's over now. I've caught you. I'm more powerful than you could ever hope to be. It's time for me to kill you, sweetie."

"Get away from her!"

A wall of fire struck Feng Mian, an inch away from hitting Lien too. The woman screeched in pain and fell backward. Fan Li shoved Lien behind her then aimed her fist at Feng Mian's face.

"Pick yourself up and go." The words hissed through gritted teeth. "You're pathetic, preying on the weak like a street urchin."

Feng Mian's eyes widened as she recognized Fan Li. She crawled backwards a few inches before she stood up. "Fan Li, I… I didn't expect you to…" Her fingers curled into fists. "This isn't fair. I was promised that I could-" She stopped herself. "Fine, I'll go."

The sisters watched as Feng Mian spun around and stalked away. When she was about fifteen feet away, she paused and looked over her shoulder. "Oh, but tell Zhao to put his bitch on a stronger leash. Wouldn't want her escaping again, right?" She cackled.

Fan Li punched two bursts of fire at her. She squealed and scurried off, back to the safety of her own home. Once she was gone, Fan Li turned her full attention to Lien.

"Are you okay?"

"I'll be alright…" Although weary, Lien couldn't help but be suspicious of her sister. What had happened to the girl that hated her, that did anything to get her in trouble with their father? "How does she know you? And why are you even here? I thought…" She trailed off as she noticed the tears forming in Fan Li's eyes.

"Things changed at home once you and Jing Fei left." That's all she managed to choke out. She took a few deep breaths then changed the subject. "Here, lean on me. I'll take you to the commander."

Lien flinched away from Fan Li's reaching hand. "I can get there on my own. Thanks."

"You don't trust me…" She opened her bag and drew out a thick stack of papers tied together with twine. Moving slowly, she offered them to Lien. "I stole these from Father's office. Thought it might help prove I'm on your side now."

She snatched the papers like a viper striking its prey. Her fingers loosened the twine and she leafed through the stack. Letters. Dozens and dozens of them, all from Jing Fei. They were addressed to her with neat dates scrawled at the top of each page. Jing Fei had been replying to her letters this whole time, but she'd never received them. Their parents must have intercepted them. Why?

"I appreciate this," she said, linking her arm in Fan Li's. "Take me to Zhao, please."

Fan Li beamed but didn't reply. She adjusted their position so that Lien's arm was slung over her shoulder. This way, Lien could put more weight on her sister, taking pressure off her injured ankle. Fan Li held Lien securely around her waist.

"You never told me how she knew you."

"We have a few mutual acquaintances." Fan Li said with a brief wave of her free hand. "She's watched me duel before so she knows I'm stronger than her. Guess she got scared."

Lien accepted the explanation and didn't open her mouth to reply. Instead, she focused all of her attention on the road beneath her feet.

They made slow progress but Lien would have been even slower on her own. She was so exhausted, she might have just curled up in the street if Fan Li had left her alone. As it was, her eyelids threatened to slam shut with each plodding footstep. The light of the lanterns illuminated them as they passed beneath. She glanced at Fan Li, studying her face by the firelight. There was a grim set to her jaw and a hardness in her eyes. Determination, perhaps. Or maybe it was the cold anger that would inspire her eventual revenge against Feng Mian.

Just as the sun began to brighten the horizon, they arrived at Zhao's home. All was dark aside from one window which glowed with the dull light of a candle. Fan Li leaned Lien against the wall beside the front door. She knocked on the door with increasing urgency as the seconds ticked by. Finally, it swung open. Zhao stood in the entryway, shirtless, hair undone. He scowled at Fan Li until he noticed Lien.

"What happened?" He wanted nothing more than to cradle his fiancée in his arms and kiss her everywhere. But he restrained himself. With Fan Li there, he couldn't show that vulnerable side of him that he'd always been so ashamed of.

"I decided to keep looking for her even though you told me to get some sleep." Fan Li smiled like a child who'd just been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. "Then I heard someone screaming for help. It could've been her but I wasn't sure so I ran. And I just stumbled on her with Feng Mian. I heard her say she was going to kill Lien. Then I fought her off and here we are."

Zhao nodded to himself but didn't say anything. Lien didn't know if he recognized the name of her kidnapper. Maybe he did and he had the full puzzle, already mostly assembled. Would he enlighten her? Or would she be left in the dark again? She had no proof that he knew what was going on. It was just a feeling she had, deep down.

"I'll… leave you two alone," Fan Li said, a faint blush creeping into her cheeks. Then, by the force of her will, the color disappeared. She fixed Zhao with a sardonic stare. "Take care of her this time."

"She's safe with me, I assure you." The tone of his voice made Lien shiver.

Fan Li gave her sister a quick, somewhat awkward hug. Then she glided out into the early dawn as if she'd been nothing more than a hallucination. Lien swallowed, watching the figure retreat until it turned a corner and was gone completely.

"Come in," Zhao said. He stepped aside, gave her ample space to walk by him. "I can have the spare room prepared."

She shuffled into the house, closing the door behind her. After the day – or possibly days – she'd had, all she wanted was to curl up in bed with her fiancé. He'd quickly become a constant in her life, someone she knew she could count on. It was too soon for her to feel this way. But honestly, after years of feeling like her life would never go anywhere, she was ready to rush into things.

"That won't be necessary." She flinched internally at the stiffness in her voice. It was so cold, emotionless. But adding artificial warmth didn't appeal to her at the moment. "We'll sleep together. I'm to be your wife, after all."

He stood by the entryway, eyebrow raised as she limped towards his bedroom. She glanced over her shoulder and caught him observing her.

"What?"

"Nothing." A smile snuck onto his face. Once he realized it, he masked the expression with his usual nonchalance. He followed her into his room and shut the door.

Lien turned her back to him then gingerly removed her bloodstained dress. Before then, she hadn't realized how much of the guard's blood had soaked into it. The red of the fabric had disguised it well when it had been wet. Now that it was dry, it had darkened by several shades and turned crusty. She nearly gagged at the thought. Even the tight shift she wore underneath felt tainted, yet it was still as pure white as the day she'd put it on.

She wanted to rip it off her body and burn it. Burn the gown too. Whoever that person was, she never wanted to be her again. The person who killed without batting an eye… In her desperation, she committed an unforgiveable crime. That man had a family that would never see him alive again and it was her fault. How could she not hate herself for it?

With a sigh, she crawled into bed. The sheets were cool but so soft, she immediately found it difficult to keep her eyes open. Zhao slid in beside her. She sensed his hesitation so she rolled over to face him. Their eyes met.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I…" He seemed to think about it for a moment. His eyes wandered over her face, taking in every detail. The bruised cheek, frowning lips, and empty irises. "I don't know what you need from me right now. It bothers me."

"Just hold me until we fall asleep," she said, turning her back to him once more. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her body tight against his.

As her consciousness drifted, she wondered what would become of them. A man with power, money, and, more importantly, life experience. And a naïve girl who couldn't keep herself out of trouble. Perhaps they just didn't fit together. But right then, with him pressed up against her, she felt like they were going to be okay.

 **A/N: Hello, everyone! Thank you all for favoriting, following, and reviewing. It means so much to me. I've really been eating up the positive feedback haha. But in all seriousness, it's helped me stay motivated to update relatively on time.**

 **I do have a question for you guys, though. I'm thinking it's about time for Zhao and Lien to get married. Do you want a detailed ceremony/reception full of family drama? Or would you prefer it be quick so we can move on with the plot? Thanks for weighing in!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is so late. I've been feeling really burned out for the past few weeks and then the virus got serious. So basically, a lot of my energy has been taken up by getting supplies and worrying about my pets and SO (who just got laid off). I'll try to continue updating regularly but please bear with me, given our current circumstances. It's very hard to write with my SO constantly at home. Anyway, I hope you all stay safe and enjoy this chapter!**

Lien flexed her broken ankle and cringed as sharp pain rushed up her leg. The doctor had taken his time with her, binding her leg like wrapping a piece of porcelain for transport, giving detailed instructions for aftercare. He was nothing like the doctors her parents had hired – the brusque men who'd looked her over once and claimed they had done all they could. Of course, it made sense to her now. They were being paid to lie, to keep up appearances. She'd never been sick, so they never had to touch her.

She downed a dose of the willow bark tonic the doctor had left for her. It, unsurprisingly, tasted of wood and dirt. But if it took away her pain, as he claimed, then it would be worth it. Stretching, she placed the vial on the nightstand beside the bed. For the next few weeks, she was forbidden from walking without assistance. The idea made her body burn with resentment. All the freedom she'd fought for had been snatched away by remorseless hands.

Yet, part of her knew that she was the only one to blame for what had happened. Perhaps if she had taken Kiran's warnings seriously, she'd have been better off. She told herself that she'd never make such a foolish mistake again. Anyone who presented themselves as a friend would, from then on, be met with suspicion. She had to protect herself…

With a sigh, she leafed through Jing Fei's letters again. She hadn't had the chance to read them but maybe she would start soon. It seemed she would have a lot of idle time during her bedrest. A folded paper fell free from the stack. She frowned as she picked it up.

Unfolded, it revealed the image of a young man, drawn in deep black ink. Did Jing Fei send this? She spent some minutes examining the picture. Something about him was familiar, but she couldn't place it. All she knew for sure was that she'd never actually seen him before. Perhaps she had passed him in the marketplace. But then, why would Jing Fei have a portrait of him? She folded the paper and set it aside. If Jing Fei sent it, she would have mentioned it in her letters, so Lien scanned through each one. Nothing. Not a single sentence about a man she'd met.

"Is Jing Fei alright?"

Lien jerked her head up and found Zhao standing at the foot of their bed. She had been so engrossed in her search that she hadn't noticed him come in. "Um, yes, she is. Why?"

"You seem troubled," he said with a slight shrug. "And those are her letters, aren't they?"

"I'm still upset that my parents tried to hide them from me, that's all." The lie fell so easily from her tongue, she should've been ashamed. But she wasn't. Not yet, anyway. She was more confused about why she felt the need to hide such a trivial thing as a picture from him.

"Of course." He drew closer and eased himself into bed beside her. His eyes flicked down to the folded paper, but he didn't say anything about it. "I have to return to my duties soon. The admiral approved my request for a new ship this morning. It should arrive by the end of the week."

"But… you only just… What about us?"

"I know." His fingers stroked the back of her hand, soft, reassuring. "I won't leave you here."

She stared at him, eyes wide. If she'd heard him correctly, it seemed he was suggesting that he would take her with him. Wherever he was assigned to go. Worry gnawed at her initial excitement. This was the perfect opportunity to work on her dream, but at what cost? What if the dangers of the outside world outweighed those within the capital? She didn't know if she could handle being kidnapped again. Or worse…

The Avatar was out there somewhere. Zhao had never gone into detail about the encounter with him but he seemed to be a formidable opponent. If she ran into him on her own… She shuddered at the morbid images her mind conjured. Her fiancé had barely escaped with his life. How could she expect him to protect her too?

"As much as I want to go with you, it doesn't feel safe," she said, pulling her hand away from him and crossing her arms over her chest.

"You don't have a choice." He hesitated, his usual stoic façade falling aside slightly. Just enough for her to detect some of the hurt she'd caused with her reluctance. "Kiran can't defend you like I can. She's already proven that she doesn't take your wellbeing seriously. There were people specifically targeting you, trying to cause you harm, and she…" He sighed.

She thought about what he had left unsaid. Kiran had let her wander unsupervised far too often. But was that really her fault? Lien was responsible for her own decisions, not Kiran. It wasn't fair for Zhao to blame her for the abduction. She had lied to Kiran and trusted Feng Mian when she shouldn't have. Maybe everything could have been avoided if she'd just been more sensible. If only she'd listened… But this time, she was determined to be cautious and prove to Zhao that she wasn't a burden.

"Alright, I'll go."

He smirked then patted her thigh. His hand rested on the skin exposed by her short shift. The warmth of his fingers sent shivers down her spine. It felt like ages since he'd touched her so intimately even though she knew that only a few days had passed. Her cheeks burned as she remembered what he'd done – what she'd begged him to do. She still wasn't sure how she felt about that night. There was no regret but the confusion wouldn't leave her. What did it mean? Maybe nothing at all.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked. He moved his hand from her thigh up to her cheek.

She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. It felt natural to her, comfortable. There was definitely something between them. Trust and an undeniable attraction, at least. But was there something more? The relationship between her parents didn't set a good example for her. And her father – well, not her father, thanks to her cheating mother – he never showed her any affection while she was growing up. She wasn't sure she was even capable of loving a man. Jing Fei was the only person that she loved confidently. Even when they disagreed. But could she learn to love Zhao too? Did he love her? Or was this just a political union?

"It's nothing you'd be interested in," she said. She opened her eyes once more and saw him examining her face. Maybe there was concern in his eyes. Sharply, she turned her head away, breaking contact with his hand.

"You don't have to hide anything from me."

"I was thinking about our wedding," she said. It wasn't quite a lie so she told herself that she didn't have to feel bad about it. She shifted her body carefully, facing him again.

"Why do you think I'm not interested in that?" He smiled like he was trying to tell a joke. The expression faded as he watched her eyes harden. Frown set firmly on his lips, he backed off. "I should let you rest. You've been through a lot recently."

"I'm sorry." She reached out, grabbed his wrist to prevent him from leaving. "It's just… uncomfortable for me to talk about this. And I had a feeling that you wouldn't be comfortable with discussing it either."

He nodded as if he knew exactly what she was referring to. Perhaps he'd been having similar thoughts, wondering if he could ever fall in love. Or let his guard down enough to love her properly. But he didn't open up and tell her that. He had to protect himself and, of course, she understood. She would have said the same had their roles been reversed.

"We shouldn't pretend that this is something it's not."

Even though she'd expected him to be defensive, her heart ached at his words. Was that what love felt like? The pain of distance and rejection? She grimaced. "You're right."

"Of course I'm right," he said. His voice projected confidence but his eyes were downcast and his lips frowned. Then he coughed and his sour expression was replaced by a more neutral one. "I want to be honest with you, and you with me."

"I have been."

"And I haven't. Not exactly."

Before he could elaborate, there was a sharp knock on the door. He apologized then got out of bed and left the room. Lien blinked. It had all happened so fast, from doubting their relationship to almost getting answers then nothing. She sighed and threw herself back into her pillow. Her fiancé was always so busy, rushing to accomplish several tasks at once. Did he ever tire of it? And how would she fit into his life when they married? She needed more from him than she suspected he could give. He carried himself like he was running out of time. And she wasn't selfish enough to ask him for even a second more of it.

* * *

The next few days passed in a blur. Kiran visited her several times, hugging her and crying and apologizing. Lien soothed her as best as she could but the older woman was inconsolable. Although it was sweet, she couldn't handle the emotional burden right then. She was relieved when Kiran finally left.

Fan Li checked on her only once. But she was more attuned to social cues than Kiran was and knew that her sister needed time alone. She stayed for a few minutes, just long enough to check on Lien's ankle and let her know she could reach out whenever. Then she retreated, leaving Lien alone with her thoughts.

Zhao spent time with her as much as he could manage. His was the only presence she still craved. She had this feeling deep down that he understood her. That he knew what it was like to be held against his will and tortured and desperate enough to kill. They stayed up together at night and he listened as she talked about it yet again. It was comforting to some extent, being able to speak such horrible things without judgement. When she'd finished, he'd tell her that she was strong and he was proud of her.

The night before Zhao's new ship was due to be delivered, he lay down beside his fiancée and spoke before she could launch into the usual rant.

"Let's talk about something else, just for tonight."

She curled up against him, her head on his chest and arm wrapped around his stomach. "What do you have in mind?" Even with the abrupt change of their routine, she felt completely relaxed. The steady beat of his heart beside her ear eased her nerves.

"I thought we could continue our conversation from a few days ago," he said, lightly stroking her hair. "Now that we won't be interrupted."

His voice sounded like he was smiling but she didn't lift her head to see. Maybe she feared that she'd misheard him and his lips would be turned down as they often were. But she liked his smile, didn't want to ruin the image in her head. Its rarity made it more precious to her. She was sure that she was the only one who ever got to see it. Everyone else spoke of his severity in hushed tones. Afraid. As they should be. But those private moments they shared – when he displayed his good humor, tenderness, vulnerability – let her believe that she was safe with him.

"Alright."

"Well… I said I want to be honest with you from now." His fingers stilled in her hair. "I suppose that means assuring that we have open communication. Ask me something."

She tensed for a moment as a jolt of consciousness zapped her. He'd lifted all the unspoken restrictions on her. All the questions she'd been wrestling with for months came to her immediately. So many options. Would he answer all of them? Or just one? And if she only had one question to ask, which one should she choose? She could demand to know what he knew about her family. Her brother, specifically. Or if he knew why her grandfather had fallen out of favor.

"How much did you pay for me?" The words spilled out before she could stop them. It was the least important question. She'd certainly thought she'd moved on from it. And yet, even the mention of the business side of their arrangement brought tears to her eyes.

He sighed and, for a second, she thought he would deflect it. Whatever shame he felt would overpower him. He'd leave her wondering.

"Your parents asked for half of their debt," he said at last. "I paid it off entirely."

It wasn't an exact number, but that didn't matter to her. She suspected it was more money than she'd know what to do with. Part of her wanted to push him, ask if his conscience was alright with what he'd done or if he was happy with what he'd received in return. In the end, she stayed silent. The last thing she wanted was to accuse him. Her parents were the ones trying to sell her. Couldn't blame him for buying… And at least he valued her life twice as much as her own family did.

"I'm aware that it doesn't sound good." He laughed a short bark of a laugh, like he was nervous. "But I prefer to think that I didn't buy you. I was just helping the family of the woman I… the woman I'm marrying."

"They deserved to drown in their mistakes." She untangled herself from his body and turned onto her other side, putting her back to him. Clutching her pillow, she squeezed her eyes shut. The tears she'd held in her eyes overflowed. Down her cheeks, onto the bed.

"I agree," he said, tentatively rubbing her back. When she didn't resist, his touch turned confident. His fingers prodded at the tension in her shoulder blades until he worked it out and she visibly relaxed. "Your parents were cruel to you. But you're safe here. You have power now. No one will take advantage of you again. I will protect you."

Her heart nearly stopped at his words. They reminded her of the things Jing Fei used to say to reassure her. She blinked away the last of her tears and turned back to him. Timid, she stroked his cheek. Her fingers had a soft pull to them, a suggestion. He accepted her without hesitation, closing the gap between them to kiss her. Unlike previous kisses, this one was slow, sensual. The fire was there, behind each movement of their lips, but neither stoked it. They simply enjoyed each other for as long as they could.

Lien pulled away. His irises were honey golden, drinking her in like he'd go blind in the morning. With a slight start, she realized she'd never thought of his eyes that way before. Always dark, angry, lustful. But now, they were light and sweet.

"I have a question for you now," Zhao said, caressing her side.

"What is it?" The contact made her shudder with desire. A desire to please him, to hear him speak again. His touch faltered but, when she smiled, he continued with a smirk.

"If you could marry me tomorrow, short ceremony, no family or friends, just us and the sage… Would you?"

"Fan Li should be there. And Kiran. I think they'd kill me if we got married without them." She giggled at the thought of Kiran throwing a tantrum over not being invited. "But I think I would. Drawn out, formal ceremonies aren't for me. I'd still want to wear the dress, though."

"Good to know." Then he changed the subject. "How's your ankle? Did Kiran help you pack?"

"It's fine. The doctor said it will probably take a few weeks to heal completely. And yes, she did. I'm all ready to leave with you tomorrow." Lien kissed him again, just a quick peck, then turned over. She needed to restore her energy for the voyage. As far as she remembered, she'd never been on a boat in the open sea before. But she pushed the thought from her mind before she became too nervous to sleep.

* * *

"Lien, wake up!"

When her eyes flew open, she found herself almost nose to nose with Kiran. She yelped and rolled to one side to get away. Kiran giggled as she straightened to stand upright. Fan Li lurked a few steps behind her, arms crossed. She pushed herself up on her forearms, looking between the two women, eyebrows furrowed.

"What are you doing here?"

"We're helping you get ready, of course. Silly girl." Kiran smiled so wide, she worried her friend's jaw would detach from her head and fall to the floor. "You're–"

Fan Li jabbed a sharp elbow into Kiran's side. The older woman gasped and clutched her ribs. "It's a surprise, Lien, but if you're smart, you'll figure it out soon. Now get out of bed and put this on." She shoved an intricately wrapped package into her sister's hands as she stumbled to her feet.

"Be gentle with her," Kiran admonished, "she's injured."

"This is a bit much for just…" Lien trailed off as she tore into the wrapping paper, exposing gauzy white fabric and a flash of silky red. Tenderly, she held the gift up in the air. "What… what is this?" But she already knew. She'd seen a similar gown in her mother's wedding portrait.

"I hope you like it," Kiran said, unable to contain her excitement. "It's a custom dress from my favorite Fire Nation designer. Well, come now, try it on!"

Lien pressed her lips tight together and nodded wordlessly. She changed into a fresh shift – pure white with a hint of lace along the low neckline. As she slipped into the wedding gown, she felt a pressure in her chest. But she couldn't determine if it was an extreme happiness or oppressive fear and sadness. Perhaps it was an even combination of positive and negative emotions.

Kiran helped her adjust the dress and tie up the back. Then she draped the red and gold shawl over her shoulders. "How does it feel?"

Snug in the chest, the dress flared out in a dramatic skirt that dragged on the ground. The main fabric was so light, it almost felt like she was wearing nothing at all. She ran her hands down her torso, admiring the texture and how it conflicted with the smoothness of the silk shawl.

"It's not exactly traditional, but it seemed in line with the kinds of dresses you chose to wear around me." Kiran spoke the words quickly as if Lien's silence was an indication of hating the present.

"No, it's perfect. Thank you. I didn't know you were paying that much attention to me."

"This is sweet and all," Fan Li said, "but we don't have time for it. I… umm… I volunteered to do your makeup, if that's alright with you. I know you'd prefer Jing Fei…"

"Stop that," Lien said, taking hold of her sister's hands. "Our relationship is important to me too. I've spent so much time with Jing Fei over the years. It's your turn, now, don't you think?"

Her lips twitched into a faint smile. "Let's get started then."

After an hour of Fan Li painstakingly perfecting Lien's makeup, while Kiran wrestled with her hair, she was finally ready. She took a deep breath. It was time. The three of them left Zhao's home and got into the carriage that had been waiting on them. They sped through the streets and Lien let her mind wander to other things. She couldn't focus on the marriage that was approaching faster than she thought possible. How had they managed all these preparations seemingly overnight? Unless this was always his plan…

The carriage rolled to a stop and Fan Li helped Lien out. Before anything else about their location could make an impression, the air struck her nose with the smell of salt and brine. Ocean stretched on before her, speckled with boats from the docks. They were at the harbor.

She spotted Zhao in front of his new ship with a man she didn't recognize. Although she wanted to run to him, she stopped herself. Couldn't risk putting stress on her ankle. So, she let Fan Li support her. They crept down the boardwalk like an old tank. She'd never seen one outside of the designs she'd studied but she imagined they would be slow to begin with. They looked heavy.

But she was just rambling to herself, trying to distract her brain from what was about to happen. All too soon, she stood in front of her groom. Her entire body trembled and she was sure she would have collapsed if Fan Li hadn't been there to hold her up.

"Lien."

"Zhao." She watched his eyes scan down her body. But he would never compliment her with an audience. "Who is this?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "He's just officiating."

The man frowned yet he controlled his tongue. He didn't respond to Zhao's insult and instead, launched into his usual spiel about love and family.

And then, it was over. Lien wasn't sure if the ceremony was short like Zhao had suggested the night before or if the nervousness had made her black out. She blushed. Could she really have missed her own wedding?

The man bowed to Zhao then retreated. Kiran and Fan Li hugged her, with Kiran squealing in delight and Fan Li characteristically quiet. She wrapped her arms around each of them in turn.

"You're really leaving?" her sister asked once the embrace broke apart.

"I need to see what else is out there. It's been my dream since…" She coughed. "It's been my dream for such a long time. I hope you understand."

"Of course…"

"I'll be back in a few months, I promise."

But she didn't know. The workings of the universe did not reveal themselves to her nor to anyone else. When Zhao grasped her arm and steered her onto his ship, she could almost sense a change in the air around her. A chill infiltrated her shawl. Like fate was trying to communicate with her. But she was too small and naïve to understand what it meant.

Maybe nothing. She'd had a long morning, after all.


End file.
